Don't Believe in Happy Endings
by NobodyLikesAnAsshole
Summary: Skank!Kurt Badboy!Blaine After going through an almost unreal childhood, Kurt suffers from blocking out what happened. But he's able to keep it under control. That is, until there's a new student at school, who looks just like a hobbit in Kurt's eyes. He somehow fucks everything up for Kurt, does something to his mind that he really doesn't like. But things doesn't stop there...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Okay, so I'm completely new here.. (I've read a few of the stories here in the past, of course, but haven't signed up or anything. But now I am and stuff.)**

**This story is uploaded at Scarves and Coffee ****too, and there's already 11 chapters uploaded there. So now I'll post a new chapter here every other day until you guys have catched up with 'them', kay? Sounds good? Yes? Awesome. **

**Anyways, don't judge my layout skills and stuff, 'case this page is driving me crazy with all the options back and forth...**

**Oh and, I don't own anything. (That's needed here, right?)**

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Kurt groaned and turned around at the sound of a voice calling his name.

"What?" he said in a bored tone, not turning around.

"Mr. Hummel, I need to see you in my office right now." Came a strain voice from behind him and he sighed tiredly.

"Now." repeated the voice when he didn't answer.

"Fine."

"This is not an acceptable behavior, Mr. Hummel." Figgins complained once he sat in the chair in the well-familiar office.

He was so tired of this. This was his fifth time this _week _he'd been summoned to the principal's office. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

"Would you mind me asking what's not acceptable about me?"

"It's not you that we do not accept, Mr. Hummel, it's what you _do._"

"I'm not the one who did anything, _he_ was."

"Oh, that is so incredible mature."

"I'm sorry, and what exactly are you doing in here?" Kurt asked, still looking as un-amused and bored as physically possible, as he looked at the tall, blond woman standing by one of the bookshelves.

"Whatever." he simply said when she wouldn't answer him.

"You cannot keep acting like this, Mr. Hummel–"

"Give it up with the fucking Mr. Hummel thing after every three words you say, would you?"

"Watch your language, lady face."

"I didn't talk to you, so back off." Kurt smiled politely, yet poisonous, at the woman.

"And you watch your tone with me, young whatever-you-are, I will not accept that kind of–"

"That's enough, Sue." Figgins cut in and she went silent with a disapproving look on her face.

"Moving on," the man grumbled in his ridiculous Indian accent, "I'm afraid I may have to suspend you if this behavior –"

"That's bullshit." Kurt stated and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Please don't use that kind of language Mr. Hum–"

"Just stop it with the ass kissing, it's frickin' annoying." the man on the other side of the desk looked at him, almost a little sadly, but Kurt couldn't care less.

"It just isn't acceptable for a student to act the way you do."

"I don't give a fuck about what's acceptable and not. That guy practically _begged_ me to beat his pretty little virgin ass, so I just couldn't resist."

"That isn't a reason for you to beat him unconscious –"

"He called me a faggot, _Mister, _and I just made sure he won't do it again." Kurt explained and gave the principal a sly smile.

"You can't take that sort of matter into your own hands, Mr. Hummel, you need to come see me when that sort of thing happens –"

Kurt laughed. "Yeah, and what would you do about it? Call their mommy and daddy? News flash for you, Mr. Principal, his parents probably wouldn't care. They'd just be proud that their little son's growing up and showing everyone just what big off a man he is."

"Mr. Hum –" Figgins tried again, but Kurt was already out of the chair and through the door.

"About time." Quinn muttered when her roommate finally reached the car.

"What took you so long?"

"Figgins office." Kurt waved off and hoped into the car's driver's seat.

"What'd you do this time?"

"Karofsky called me a faggot again."

"He never learn, does he?"

"Obviously."

"So what'd you do to him?"

"I beat him up." Kurt said, just like it was the most logical answer to that question.

"Bad?"

"Apparently he fell unconscious, but I wasn't around to see it."

Quinn looked at him in almost astonishment.

"What?"

"Karofsky is like, really big. How'd you do that?"

"Dunno," Kurt shrugged. "But it sure took a lot more strength than usual."

"No shit."

"I just hope he'll learn soon, it's getting kind of boring."

"I hear you." she agreed.

"Oh, and Figgins told me he may have to suspend me if I keep 'this behavior' thing up, or whatever."

"What?"

"Mhm. But the asshole didn't say shit about what Karofsky did to _me_. It was just _I _who'd screwed up."

"Fuckers." Quinn muttered. "What'd you say?"

"I told them they could go fuck themselves."

"Good boy." she smiled and she could see how Kurt smiled as well.

The rest of the ride home was completely silent, but it wasn't awkward. Quinn just knew Kurt well enough to know that he wasn't into talking about school. He wasn't into talking about anything, really, he liked silence more. And when he really had something important to say, he'd try a few times before writing a song about it. He'd then sit and play it and pretend that he didn't know Quinn was present or that she was listening.

She'd been really annoyed with the way Kurt always acted in the beginning, but got used to it pretty quickly. She learned that it was a bad idea to try and push him into talking about stuff he didn't want to talk about and she learned that the boy had big problems loving and trusting people, and that he never admitted liking anyone.

Yet, Quinn knew Kurt loved her. Not sexually, since, you know, she wasn't a guy. But she knew that she really meant a lot to him. Just the fact that he laughed and smiled around her without immediately shutting himself off the second he realized what he was doing, showed that Kurt actually had a heart.

"Home sweet home." Kurt said in a sing-song voice but still in a sort of mutter.

He shuffled over to the sink and put his face under the now streaming water.

"Any plans for tonight?"

"Nah. The usual, Scandals." he slurred, water still running over his face.

"Mind me tagging along?"

Kurt stood up and wiped his face off with the sleeve of his hoody.

"You're such a fag-hag." he rolled his eyes at the pink haired girl.

"Shut up." she shot back with a quirk on her lips.

"Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Like what?"

"Like, study?"

At this Quinn actually laughed.

"Yeah, right, as if."

"Well, just a warning, I might just not be paying any attention to you at all when we get there."

"So, what? You're gonna blow me off if you find someone more interesting?"

"Nope, I'm actually kinda hoping I'll find a guy who'll blow _me _off."

"You're such a sex addict." Quinn pointed out with a half frown and Kurt just gave her a look that so clearly said _'__duh?'_,she just laughed at him.

"What should I wear?" Kurt asked after a while of silence, as he ruffled through the piles of worn and washed out clothing spread all over the floor.

"Like that even matter?"

"Quinny, I need your advice." Kurt said in his fake whiny voice and she looked up from her sketchpad from where she lied on her torn mattress on her side of the room.

"Whatever you feel like wearing, you'll look smokin' either way."

Kurt frowned. "Honestly, I need to look as good as possible tonight."

"And why's that?"

"'Cause I need, like _need, _to find someone tonight or I won't be able to keep on living."

"Like that've ever been a problem for you before." Quinn muttered tiredly and went back to her drawing.

Ever since Kurt started going to Scandals about two years ago, it had always been ridiculously easy for him to pick up guys. Actually, he'd never been turned down by a single boy at that club, if her memory wasn't incorrect. And Quinn still wasn't completely sure on whether everyone at that club was incredibly horny or if Kurt was just that appealing for gay guys. Probably both, she thought.

"Ow..." Kurt groaned and she looked up.

"What?"

"My damn back is fucking with me again." he hissed.

"Lemme help you." Quinn mumbled and walked over to her roommate.

"No, it's fine."

"Kurt, you–"

"I said it's fine, Quinn!" And if his arms weren't stuck above his head, Kurt would've slapped her hand away.

"Kurt," she reached out and grabbed his face between her hands. His arms were still positioned in an awkward angle half over his head and he swore when she helped him get his t-shirt off properly.

"I'm gonna bash his fucking face in next time I see him." he groaned and screw his eyes shut as pain ran through his body.

"I'll help you." Quinn assured.

She took a grip around his arms and forced them down, Kurt's jaws tensing as he obviously bit back a little scream in pain.

"You gotta go to the doctor again, make them take a look."

"Why?"

"You need help with this Kurt –"

"I don't need fucking help from anybody. I can take care of myself."

"So what would you've done if I wasn't there to help you just now?"

Kurt opened his mouth but closed it again.

"Thought so." Quinn crossed her arms. "You don't need to play hero with me, Kurt, I know you're not a machine."

"And I'm not saying I am, I'm just saying I don't need the doctors to help me."

"But your back –"

"Is fine." Kurt cut off.

"It's not fine! It gets fucked up too easily to be fine!" she raised her voice slightly. Sometimes she just couldn't help but hate when he was like this.

"But I don't need your saving, Quinn, or the doctors'. They can't do shit about it! So just mind your own fucking business, or leave me alone if you can't do that."

"Asshole." Quinn muttered and dragged herself back to her mattress and plopped down on it.

Kurt looked at himself in the car's driving mirror and as usual he both hated and loved what he saw. His hair was perfectly styled but the pink and purple hair dye was almost gone. His eyes were lined with black eyeliner and it made his cyan eyes pop more than usual.

"Ready to go?" Quinn asked from beside him and he answered her by opening the door to the old pick up and hopping out.

The wet ground was dark and smelled wonderful, that smell that came from wet asphalt and was sort of impossible to describe.

The rain pattered quietly as it hit Kurt's knee-high boots and he could feel the water drops through his skin tight jeans.

The man at the door didn't bother asking them for ID, knowing their faces very well.

Scandals. It was such a shaggy, run down place, it was almost embarrassing. But it was the only gay bar in town so Kurt didn't have that much of a choice.

"Heeeey, look who heere!" Santana jelled when they saw each other across the dance floor. She took hold of the girl that was dancing next to her, who was obviously Brittany, and walked across what was supposed to be the dance floor.

"If it isn't gay boy and his favorite fag-hag." she hugged them both, a clear sign that she wasn't anywhere near sober, before dragging them both over to the bar.

"I thought you were sick, San."

"Well I am?" she grabbed her girlfriend's hand before carrying on. "I'm sick of school." she smiled broadly.

"Aren't we all?" Quinn muttered and took a sip of the beer Santana had bought her.

"So you just decide to stop coming?"

"Yeah? They can't tell me what to do."

"True shit, that." Kurt pointed out but he wasn't looking at them.

"Really?" Quinn asked skeptically as she followed Kurt's gaze.

"Really." he smirked and stood up.

"Heey, Kuurt! Are you leaving alreadyy?" Brittany looked at the boy and he just rolled his eyes at her.

"He'll be back soon." Quinn told her.

"Where'r you goinfp–" Her words were cut off and swallowed by Santana as she hungrily attacked her lips with her own.

Kurt rolled his eyes again. He'd never get those two. Always so all over each other whenever they got the chance; so in love, they told him. He didn't get it. And they were too naïve for him to even try and get an explanation.

He turned away from the now making out lesbians and a laughing Quinn and looked over at a guy who stood with his back rested up against the wall. He was thin and quite tall, maybe even a little taller that Kurt. He looked pretty 'normal' over all, nothing special, really. But Kurt was the tad from desperate and with the way that boy were practically eye-fucking him from across the room, he really didn't fucking care.

"Hey there." Kurt said and put on his best sexy face, something that never failed in getting him what he wanted.

"Hey there, yourself." smirked the guy, already moving closer, almost too eager.

Okay, eager was good, at least in that situation.

"Stalls?" asked Kurt.

"Right behind you."

He walked across the room again, this time towards the restroom stalls, and this time with a guy, a really hot guy, following him.

"You done anytime soon?" Kurt groaned as he hammered on the stall doors. All of them were taken. Every single one. Was that some kind of joke?

"Fuck off." Came a moan in response and Kurt almost felt jealous. Because why should whoever they were on the other side of those doors have the right to get off and not him? And why did Scandals always have to choose the worst night to have its stalls packed?

"What about outside?" the boy asked, and he was really a boy. Kurt doubted he would actually be able to do anything to that guy without breaking some sort of law.

"What about it?"

"We can always go outside if it's packed in here."

Kurt's mind went blank for a split second, seeing a flash of a distant memory, then he shook his head.

"Nah." he muttered.

"Why not?"

"'Cause I don't wanna freeze my dick off." Kurt said coldly but the guy just gave him a sly smiled before pressing him up against the wall.

"Come on, baby, it won't spend that much time out in the open." he cooed in Kurt's ear and fuck, he must really be desperate 'cause he was so close to giving in.

"No. I don't do outdoors." Kurt made a move to push the other guy off of him but that only made the brunette press a thigh up between Kurt's legs to connect with his crotch and he moaned quietly.

"Then what do you _do _exactly?" he mumbled and shit, Kurt could already feel blood rushing south, so to speak.

"How 'bout I show you?"

"Kurt's comin' baack!" Brittany grinned from ear to ear when she saw him walking towards them.

"Hey."

"What?"

"What, what?"

"What are you smiling about?" Quinn asked.

"You look tired, wanna go home?" Kurt asked and sat down.

"Don't avoid the question asshole." she gave him a disapproving look.

"Quinnyyy, are you asking for details about my sex life?"

"What sex life? You mean getting off with strangers in the bathrooms at a bar, mostly filled with men twice your age?" she said with a quirk of her lips.

Kurt just shrugged. "I'm sure that an orgasm feels the exact same way no matter where you are or who you're with."

"I object." Santana pouted. "It's a lot diff'rent when me 'nd Britt–"

"Just stop right there, okay. Don't wanna hear any of that." Kurt made a grimace.

"What, why not?" Brittany looked a little confused. "Wait, what are we talking about again?"

Quinn laughed at her and Kurt face-palmed. He couldn't understand how Santana could be into someone like that.

An hour later and Kurt had looked at every single guy from head to toe at least five times each. He couldn't find anyone of interest what so ever, most of them were way too old or just too… dapper looking, and he was starting to get tired of the way those old men looked at him.

"Let's go, I'm bored as fuck." Kurt muttered in Quinn's ear.

"Mm, sure." she turned her head around which made the girl, face unknown to Kurt, beside her drop her head on Quinn's shoulder, looking a bit lost.

"See ya 'round" she cooed to the girl and walked out of the building with her friend.

"I'm starting to not believe that you're straight." Kurt muttered when they were on the road, him driving home sober for the first time in quite a while. Why hadn't he drunk anything?

"Why not."

"'Cause you make out with girls like every time you're at Scandals with me?"

"It's just for fun." Quinn giggled.

"Just think of all the lesbian hearts you must've broken…"

"Fuck you." She beamed at him.

"Where'd San and Britt go by the way?"

"Who the fuck knows? Honeymoon?"

Quinn rolled her eyes at him. "You're jealousy is so beautiful."

Kurt raised an eyebrow at the girl. "Say what?"

"You're jealous that two dykes like them have more luck in finding love than you do, that they've found their better half and happy ending."

The boy snorted. "Would you _please _stop being such a fucking girl?"

"I _was_ joking, you know."

"Doesn't make you any less off a girl." Kurt stated with so little irony in his voice that not many people would've heard it. "I mean, you have _pink hair_, can you _be _more girly than that?"

"Oh, and you're the one to talk?"

Kurt shrugged and Quinn hit him on the arm.

They were weird together, the two of them. But it still worked out really well, somehow.

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**Yup. Okay, so.. I love reviews.. They mean, like, a lot to me.. So please tell me what you thought? (Okay I need to stop begging people to review on what I write. It makes me look bad. Stop.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**New chapter, voila.**

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"And who do we have here?" Kurt asked, looking at a boy he'd never seen before, sitting on a bench gazing out over the football field where the school's horrible football team was rolling around in the mud.

He stood up and Kurt looked at the small man. Like really, he was _tiny. _And his hair was curly as hell. He looked like a freakin' hobbit with too small feet.

"Don't worry, I don't bite." Kurt raised a pierced eyebrow at the words.

"Unless you want me to, of course." added the male and Kurt named him Frodo (1) in his head.

"Who exactly do you think is giving you the right to talk to me like that?"

"No one's telling me I _can't._" said Frodo and Kurt laughed.

"Wow, tough are we?" he said with an evil grin. "This is the real world, hobbit, and if you look at the two of us, I'm clearly superior to you."

"Size doesn't matter."

"Oh, is that what you tell yourself when you look down at your tiny little excuse for a c–"

A fist connected with Kurt's face and he gasped in surprise.

Who the fuck did Frodo think he was?

"Oh you are _so _going to regret that." Kurt hissed, voice low and raspy.

"Bring it on, lady."

Kurt's blood boiled. No one talked to him like that.

"Don't expect me to go easy on you just because you're a new face in the crowd here."

"Never."

Minutes later and the two boys were both breathing heavily, a bruise starting to appear right above the hobbit's right eye and there was blood coming out of his nose, which was pretty swollen. Kurt himself could taste blood so he assumed that his lip was smashed and there were blood running down his cheek. There was a sort of ringing in his head and his blood boiled worse than before.

"You're so fucking dead." he hissed, jaws clenching.

"Is this really necessary?" Quinn's voice asked from just behind Kurt.

"Why shouldn't it be?"

"Because there's no need to fight, you'll only get in trouble."

Kurt looked at the girl, holding back a frown.  
"When did you become such a fucking pussy, Quinny?"

The pink haired girl then took a quick step forward and her knot fist hit Kurt right in his stomach. Not being prepared to get hit _again_, especially not by Quinn, he almost let out a whimper, but was able to stop himself in the last second.

But he sort of fell to the ground, at least his legs caved underneath him and he found himself on one knee, not able to get back up.

"What the actual fuck was that?" he hissed at her and she just smiled sweetly at him.

"Don't call me a pussy, Kurt, or you'll live to regret it, 'kay?"

"…fine." Kurt grumbled, not really able to breath.

Then, of course, the hobbit had to be there and he had to start laughing at him and that made Kurt so fucking furious he could barely keep himself from getting up and separating his curl covered head from his tiny body.  
"You shut up now or you won't get out of this alive."

And _of course_ his body felt like it _had _to cough right after he'd spoken that sentence. Life was so wonderful.

"Or else what? You'll sing a tone so high my ears will explode?"

"I love your insulting skills." the blue eyed boy stated, finally able to stand up again.

"That's not the only lovable side of me."

"Okay, so ehm, excuse me while I go throw up." Kurt hugged his stomach, pretending to be sick. "Are you _serious?"_

The male shrugged.

"Do I look like a hobbit lover to you?"

"You look like the type who'd fuck everything and anything that moves, actually."

Kurt didn't respond. He turned around and started walking towards the parking lot, telling Quinn to come with him.

"That bitch's attitude. I can so not handle it." Kurt hissed once he was inside their pick up, hands knot into fists.

"Just breathe, Kurt, okay?"

"What d'you think I'm doing? I'd be pretty dead if I wasn't."

Quinn rolled her eye.

"Seriously, who is that guy even and what gives him the right to act that way?"

"Dunno. Haven't seen him before." she replied shortly.

Kurt looked at her, forehead slightly wrinkled. She wasn't looking back at him, though; her face was turned away from him, looking out through the dirty window.

"Quinn."

"Hm?"

"You know that guy, don't you?"

"What, no?"

"Then you've at least met him before."

"I haven't seen him before in my life."

"Don't fucking lie to my face."

Quinn groaned. "You know me too well."

"Well, maybe I do, but this has nothing to do with that. You're too obvious."

"Fuck you."

"Who is he?"

"Why're you so damn interested in him?"

"Because of reason?" Kurt said and made a gesture pointing at his swollen lip.

"I –don't know anything about him."

"You're angry at him." Kurt stated.

"Honestly, can you read my mind?"

"Oh, Quinny, you're a teenage girl. Your emotions are like, too obvious for it to be funny sometimes."

"I hate being a teenage girl." Quinn said grumpily.

"Don't worry; you act like a child most of the time."

"I hate you, ya know."  
"Right back at you."

As Kurt 'parked' the car just outside there little shithole of a home, he wasn't able to not become curious.

Because Quinn and Frodo had a history, maybe not much so, but there was still something about it that was worth hearing about. He could tell.

So when Kurt asked again once they were inside, he didn't just ask for the sake of getting some information about the unknown male, he asked because he was bored and didn't have anything to do. And for once he actually felt like talking.

"Tell me, please."

"Wow, did you just say _please? _Did you just _beg?_ Blaine really hit you hard in the head, didn't he?"

At first Kurt was going to give a snarky remark in return, but then he realized that,

"Blaine? Is that Frodo's real name?"

"Shit." Quinn muttered, biting her lip.

"Too obvious, I told you." Kurt's voice actually sounded a bit amused.

"Tell me." he demanded then.

"I –" she sighed, frustrated. "_Fine._ But don't expect me to give you any details."

"Did you fuck'm?"

Quinn snorted. "Wasn't it kind of really obvious that he's everything but straight?"

Well, maybe, when Kurt thought about it.

"Okay, so, no, I didn't fuck him. He's too short either way." Kurt nodded in agreement.

"But he sort of fucked me. Or, fucked me over."

"Right." Kurt didn't like this, but he was getting really damn curious for no specific reason.

"How?" he asked impatiently when she wouldn't go on.

"He was basically the reason why I got sent back to Juvie."

"'Kay. So this happened…?"

"When I was in Jane Addams, yes. And I was like two weeks from being allowed to go back 'home'" she made quote signs in the air as she said the last word. "Or whatever. I was soon to be allowed out of that place, anyway. And that motherfucker ruined it."

"How?"

"That's enough details, back off now." Quinn cut off the little storytelling and changed the subject.

"Why're you staying in tonight?"

"Need to sleep." Kurt responded shortly, giving his roommate a disapproving look.

"Don't change the subject, missy."

"Look. Why're you so damn nosy all of a sudden?" the tall girl snapped. "I said there'd be no details. I've told you the basics. So back the fuck off."

"Fine, fine." Kurt held his hands up in a sort of 'chill' gesture before getting up from where he sat on his mattress.

"Where're you going?"

"I'm gonna go mind my own business."

Kurt walked to the kitchen, wanting something to eat. But of course he was let down, just as always.

"Quinn, we seriously need to buy food!"

"With what money, exactly?" his roommate jelled from her bed.

Right. Money.

That was a problem. Neither of them had any.

The two of them had shared the little one-room apartment for just about three years now. They'd met at the towns hospital and of some reason they'd become friends just like that. It had been really weird for Kurt since he had promised to never trust someone that easily again. But they'd bonded really quickly, both knowing that the other had had a rough time growing up. They both knew the other was as fucked as them.

So, somehow, they'd ended up wandering the town together when they couldn't stay at the hospital any longer. Somehow they both knew that neither of them had anywhere to go.

They had found this dump after nights and nights sleeping in Kurt's car in the parking lot outside of William McKinley High school. It had been barred with planks over the door and windows, obviously not really a good place to live in.

But the teens, only fifteen at the time, were desperate and it seemed okay to stay there temporarily.

Only, it didn't become temporarily. They stayed in the shitty little apartment, not having any other options. They had no fridge or microwave or anything like that. It was only recently they had somehow managed to get running water.

It was a dump, really. They had no furniture except from the two thin and extremely uncomfortable mattresses on either side of the only room that they'd found going through the dumpsters placed all over the town. And there was a sort of a dresser that was there when they 'moved in'. But the drawers were gone so there was really no use of the thing, except like, putting things on top of it.

They barely survived. Being a teenager was hard at its own, so having to deal with the stuff the two of them had to deal with… well, it was hard, to say the least.

They'd learned that furniture and being warm at night really didn't matter. But they needed money. Money was their biggest problem. But they couldn't get any since they were both so busy with school, even if they barely went there for work or class (2). They were just busy with, well, life.

And when and if they _did _show up to job interviews, they mostly got turned down as soon as the people in charge saw them. No one wanted anything to do with pierced, pink haired, skinny and practically homeless teens.

Quinn was able to steal hair dye, and other small things, easily. But she didn't dare to try and take anything that cost too much, knowing that she'd in deep shit if she got caught. Kurt took things from the school's cafeteria nearly every day, but he got sick of living off of fruit and shit like that on the weekends pretty quickly.

Sometimes Santana or some of the other Skanks would buy them food, but they didn't know the full extent of Kurt and Quinn's problem. No one except from themselves knew.

Kurt had started going to Scandals as often as he did just because if he was drunk, or making out with someone, he tended to be able to forget that he was hungry. Getting someone to buy drinks for him was ridiculously easy at that place too. Most of the men there were old, some of them married with children, and they were easy to flirt with.

And even though Kurt would never, ever, ever, tell anyone; he kind of didn't love living the way he did.

And not because of _'Buh-hu nobody loves me.'_ or some shit like that. Nope, he was tired of it because he was sick of nearly freezing his balls of every night and having to deal with back pains from practically sleeping on the floor. He was sick of the people trying to throw him out of where he had a roof over his head. He was tired of being hungry and unsafe everywhere.

And basically, he was sick as fuck of his own mind. Because it was so tiring. It made him feel like such a piece of… nothing, and it wasn't fair.

His mind hated him. It hated him more than anything and it always made sure to tell him just what a pathetic piece of shit he was, how much his life sucked and how much it hated it.

But it was the only life he had. He barely remembered being happy or feeling at home somewhere. And he knew that he deserved that.

But it still got to him sometimes. Sometimes he was too weak. And he hated that he couldn't handle his own life, not even his own mind. Hated that he couldn't take responsibility for what he'd done. And he hated the scars covering his arms and thighs, constantly reminding him of just how weak he was.

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**I'm just gonna upload a new chapter every day now for a while, I think, so you guys can catch up to S&C and stuff. **

**Thank you for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you guys for reading and following! **

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"That hobbit really thinks he's tough, doesn't he?" Ronnie muttered.

"He does." Sheila confirmed.

"What do you guys say we teach him the order of things here?" Mackenzie grinned.

"Do we have to? Why bother?" Santana asked with a bored expression on her face.

"I'm with San on this one, why d'you all care so much?" Quinn agreed.

"Is he a dolphin too?" asked Brittany from beside her.

"Everyone just shut the fuck up before I punch each and every one of your little faces so hard I'll break your noses." Kurt hissed, massaging his temples, trying to keep his temper under control.

The gang was sitting in the school cafeteria, looking at the new student. And that fucker already had people fearing him. Just like that. How was that even possible?

Kurt himself had had to work for like, forever before people stopped shoving into lockers, jelling faggot after him in the corridors, and so on. He had to _work _for people to understand that you didn't fuck with him without paying for it.

But that new guy, apparently he just had to show up.

But he was a fucking hobbit! His hair was so curly and he was so freaking tiny it wasn't even funny.

Kurt hated him already. Because he was just plain annoying. He acted like he owned the fucking place, at least in Kurt's eyes. And it wasn't cool.

"Let's just get out of here." Kurt said in a low voice and stood up, feeling how he lost the control over himself more and more for each second.

"Why? I'm not done eating." Ronnie protested.

"Then take the food with you. I'm not staying here."

"Why?" she asked again and Kurt sighed in frustration. Sometimes he wondered why he was even a part of that group.

"Because I don't wanna risk goin' to prison for murder." Kurt responded, jaws clenching with anger as he looked at Frodo.

Kurt refused to call him Blaine. It wasn't appropriate for him, didn't suit him. It did things to a part of his mind that he really didn't like. It reminded him of things he hoped that he'd forgotten; things that would break him if he let himself remember.

"Kurt, what's with you today?" asked a voice.

"Nothing. I'm just done with that new guy."

"What's wrong with him?"

"Ronnie. Stop asking questions about every damn thing all the time. I'll literally punch you if you don't stop."

"Why is it so annoying today all of a sudden? What's –" her mouth was then covered by a small hand and Quinn gave her a poisonous look.

"Don't." she warned and when the girl made a move to ask 'why' again, Quinn gave her one of her bitch looks, which was as affective as always.

Kurt, thankful that the questions finally stopped, let his hands relax after having had them curled into fists for quite a while and tried desperately to control his breathing.

As they walked down the High school corridor, side by side, affectively covering the width of the path, people pressed themselves up against their lockers, trying not to get in the way of the seven seniors. Kurt loved it every time he saw one of his former bullies pressed up against their own lockers as well, looking at the ground. He'd never get tired of that specific sight.

People stayed out of their way. People respected them. People feared them.

It was the way he wanted things. It was the way things were going to stay.

"Oh my god, I really can't get rid of you, can I?"

"You're the one always finding me, not the other way around."

"You're in _my _school; I can go wherever I want. But you, however, seem a little lost."

The short male chuckled quietly, looking at the ground.

"Look. I'm not looking for trouble, honestly. I'm just like you guys, all I want is to live my life without people interfering, without people bitching." he gave Kurt a quick look. "So I'll leave you alone if you leave me alone, deal?"

Kurt looked at Frodo, one of his eyebrows slightly higher on his forehead that the other.

"Really? Wow, I didn't think you were _that_ much of a coward." Kurt scoffed.

"Not a coward, just more mature than you."

"Now that would never happen."

"Sure it won't." Blai –Frodo smiled sweetly, turned around and walked away.

He fucking walked away from them.

"He's got some guts, I give him that." Mackenzie stated and Kurt wanted to hit something so bad he had to put his hands into his pockets.

This was bad.

His temper was getting even more out of hand than usual and the switch that the other boy had made… it fucked with his head, and he hated it.

How did you go from starting to beat someone up for no apparent reason to 'not wanting any trouble' within a day? He –no.

Whatever.

Who cared?

He defiantly didn't.

Kurt shook his head when he felt the slight change somewhere in there. There was just no way he'd something like this happen now. There was no way. He was stronger than that, he tried to tell himself. But –

His mind blanked. Everything went black and then he saw the smoke and the flames and the chaos. The memories threatened to explode inside his brain and he grabbed his head, trying to force them away.

This wasn't good. Why was this happening now?_ Why?_

"Kurt, why're you so pale?" Ronnie's voice made him open his eyes, letting out a breath he'd apparently held in.

"Are you turning into a zombie?" asked Brittany, her head tilted slightly. "Isn't it too early for that?"

And there was Quinn by his side, discretely placing an arm across his lower back.

"Kurt. What's – is it… that again?" she whispered in his ear for only him to hear.

But the slender boy wasn't able to form words. He was still busy trying to keep everything inside of him in some sort of order. So he just let out a little groan and nodded.

"What's going on?" Kurt could hear someone ask but he couldn't make out who it was. Everything was a blur, his body feeling like it was going to explode. The memories attacked him time and time again and Kurt felt so fucking weak when he couldn't stop them entirely.

Some part of his mind managed to catch Quinn informing the Skanks something in the lines of 'I'm taking him home' and he wanted to protest.

He didn't want to go home. There was no reason for him to go home.

He was fine.

"You're not fine Kurt."

Had he said that out loud?

"Listen. I don't really know what's going on inside you right now, but I know what happened last time you behaved like this. So I'm taking you home and you're going to talk to me. Don't object. We're going home."

So Kurt gave in.

It didn't matter. Nothing _mattered. _

Why was he still there, even? There was nothing for him to do there. He didn't deserve to live. Why was he still there?

He didn't want to be.

_His world was spinning. There was someone missing. He could feel it. Why was he alone? He shouldn't be alone right now. The fire was so bright and so warm and it burnt his eyes. The air was thick with the poisonous smoke and he coughed after every attempted breath._

_Everything was so wrong._

Kurt shook his head violently and almost screamed out loud, the pain in his body almost too much. He barely noticed Quinn sitting beside him on the floor, trying her best to calm him down.

Why? Why, why, _why? _

Why was this happening now? Was it because of that name? Because he'd lost control? Or just because he'd become too weak again?

He had no idea. All he knew was that he didn't want to stay in his own body anymore. He'd do anything. Anything to get rid of the pain, to be able to escape his mind.

"Quinn…Please…" he breathed. Everything hurt and he didn't want it to anymore.

"You need to tell me what's going on, honey, you need to tell me what's happening."

And if that had been a normal situation, Kurt would've become extremely uncomfortable by his friend's use of words, but this wasn't normal, he didn't have the energy to even notice.

"I… don't want to. I don't want to." was all that came out of his mouth again and again.

"It's too much. I'm too weak. Make it stop… Make it fucking stop, Quinn!" he groaned between gritted teeth, pulling at his hair.

But it wouldn't stop. It just got more and more intense for every second and Kurt was do _done. _

"I don't know how. You need to tell me what's going on." Quinn desperately tried keeping her voice calm but it got harder and harder for every second.

Because seeing Kurt this out of control had only happened one time before with Quinn there, and she remembered so well what had happened.

"Make it go away." the boy kept begging and Quinn felt how the situation started get out of hand.

This wasn't Kurt. Not the Kurt she knew. The Kurt she knew didn't beg. He didn't give in to his pain. And he didn't cry.

But the Kurt she saw in front of her did exactly that. And she hated it. It scared her, to be honest.

"I'm not leaving." she told him sternly when he told her to. "Not this time."

Last time she had left him. And it had ended in one of the worst ways possible.

For a second she saw the ambulance, and so she somehow managed to calm herself down.

Because Kurt needed her, and he wasn't in the state to deny it now, so she was going to do everything she could to stop what was about to happen.

She forced Kurt to stand up and dragged him to the sink. She didn't really know what she was going to do, but she'd heard that cold water helped in situations like this.

So she grabbed the only towel they owned and held it under the water tap, letting the cold water soak it. Then she filled up one of the few classes they had in their possession and gave it to Kurt, telling him it was important to drink it.

"I don' wan' it." Quinn stopped and looked at Kurt. He'd just sounded exactly like and eight year old. Things were getting freaky and Quinn didn't like it.

"Kurt –"

"I said I don't fucking want it!" there was Kurt again. Or, something that seemed more like Kurt. Because he was still pretty fucked up.

When she tried to make him drink the water anyway, it was taken from her the glass was thrown across the room and it hit the wall, shattering into a million pieces.

"Okay that's enough." Quinn decided, placing the forgotten towel on the little sink.

"You need to get yourself together and you need to tell me what the fuck is going on, 'cause I don't like this."

But Kurt wouldn't tell her. He just kept shaking his head, kept begging for it to go away. But he wouldn't talk to her. So she lifted him up from the 'kitchen' floor and dragged him back to his mattress, carefully placing him down on it, and sat down beside him.

"'m tired." and there was that childish tone in his voice again. "I wanna sleep."

"Then sleep." Quinn told him. "But don't get any funny ideas."

Kurt lay down, and Quinn actually dared to place herself right next to him, still not wanting to leave him for one second.

Soon Kurt was sound asleep but she herself refused to give into her own sudden tiredness.

Because what if he woke up and she was still asleep? Quinn didn't even want to think about what could happen if so.

When Kurt woke up the room was starting to get dark.

Why had he been sleeping?

He blinked his eyes and his head hurt every time he did.

Then his heart stopped. There was someone lying on his bed.

Lying so close to him he could feel whoever it was' breathing against his neck. He was on his feet within a second and he wrinkled his eyebrows when he saw a sleeping Quinn lying there.

What?

"Quinn?" he asked hesitantly. "What the fuck?"

The girl blinked her eyes.

"Shit. I fell asleep."

"Obviously? And in my bed?"

"Oh, um, I –didn't want to leave you." she mumbled.

"Leave me? Why? …_What even?_" Kurt was so confused.

"You were –you don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

Quinn sat up, rubbing the sleep put of her eyes.

"Wow… okay. You don't remember me driving you home? Or any of that?"

"No…? Or, yes, or no… or I don't know." Kurt's mind was spinning. "What the fuck, Quinn, what's going on?"

"I don't know." his friend responded matter-of-factly. "I was sort of hoping you'd tell me when you woke up, 'cause you wouldn't talk before."

He didn't like this. What the fuck was going on? Why couldn't he remember?

Or well, he did sort of remember, but it was all a blurry and messy and his head felt all weird if he tried to focus on anything that apparently had happened to him only hours ago.

"You were breaking down and sort of like… I don't really know, but something was going on in your mind."

"…Right." he scratched his head. "I guess I remember that."

"And you –" she stopped herself.  
"What?"

"Never mind."

"Tell me, Quinn."

"You talked about your parents." the girl bit her lip. "And you were crying and stuff when we came back here."

Kurt's face fell.

"You're making that up." he hissed.

"Why would I be making that up?"

"I –don't know! But there's –"

"I promise I won't tell anyone what you said. And I won't tell anyone what happened."

"Swear it. Because if you do I don't know what I might do to you."

Quinn smiled. "You have my permission to kill me if I do."

"Don't even joke about that."

"You didn't kill him."

"Yes I did." Kurt muttered bitterly and walked out of their so called home.


	4. Chapter 4

It got dark outside pretty quickly, even for it being October and all that, and soon he could barely see anything at all. He walked in complete darkness for a couple of moments before the streetlights came to life.

Kurt was numb. There was no other way to describe it. He could barely feel his own body.

If it came from what had happened a couple of hours ago, or from walking around town aimlessly for hours, he didn't know. But it almost felt sort of good.

There was no pain, for once. It was just him walking, or slowly dragging himself forward, with no goal what so ever. He didn't care about the rain that never seemed to stop falling, soaking him into the bone. It was pretty nice, actually. The sound and smell that came from it, it helped him relax.

Kurt sighed.

This was so fucking weird.

He was walking there, not caring, letting his thoughts flow freely and he didn't even care that he kept remembering all, or a lot of, the shit that had somehow started to surface again after all these years of him being able to sort of control it.

What was going on with him? Why couldn't he keep himself under control? 'Cause there was no way that just hearing that name again would cause all this.

He walked and walked, somehow dozing off every now and then, and the he found himself in the little parking lot outside of Scandals and Kurt rolled his eyes at himself.

Of course he'd get there one way or another.

But he didn't feel like going inside. He looked like crap, after all. His now almost completely brown hair was soaked and un-styled, draping over his forehead in thick, wet tufts. So there was no way he was going to show up in there looking like that.

But he was starting to feel cold, so he didn't really want to stay outside either.

So he just stood there, hugging himself, for a couple of minutes.

What was wrong with him? His mind felt so fucked up and he acted… he didn't know how, but not the way he _should_ be acting.

He shouldn't let himself remember, shouldn't let himself feel. Especially not about his past. Because that would just fuck him up too bad and he would end up back in the hospital again. And that was something he didn't want.

Because when you were put in the hospital for attempted suicide, it always ended up with nurses trying to act all motherly with him and then he'd be forced to see a therapist.

And Kurt hated the therapists, acting all professional and always wearing the exact same expression on their faces.

But the thing that he hated the most was that they thought that they had some sort of right, some sort of ownership over Kurt, as long as he was in their office. Like he _had _to tell them what was going on in his life, what had happened, how he felt and all that other shit.

It made him angry, and then he got the diagnosis 'violent' or 'problematic temper'.

What the fuck?

Just because he didn't want to sit in a chair in some boring-ass office, talking to a boring-ass person, who always was a complete stranger, didn't make him 'violent' or 'troublesome'. It made him human. And anyone who thought different could go fuck themselves.

And even though Kurt often acted like he 'wasn't human', didn't have a heart or never gave a fuck about anything whatsoever, it sadly wasn't true.

Because as much as Kurt hated to admit it, he was human. And he did feel things every now and then. But it was never anything that anyone but himself would get to know anything about.

In the real world, the rain suddenly became way more intense than before, every drop hitting him feeling as if the water out of an entire pool had been dropped over his head. So Kurt rushed inside the building without thinking. He got some weird looks when he entered, water dripping from his wet clothing, but it wasn't more than what he was used to on a daily basis.

The boy shook his body like a wet dog, the rain soaking his clothes creating something almost like a watery veil around him for a second. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and he spun around.

"Santana." Kurt said as he laid eyes on the grinning teen.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in." she shook her head at him.

"Speak for yourself." Grumbled Kurt as he sat down by one of the tables placed as far from the center of the tiny club as possible. Kurt wanted to be seen by as few as possible, for once.

"What?" slurred Santana and ran a hand through her incredibly ruffled hair.

"What's wrong with me?"

"You look like you've been fucked pressed up against a wall." Kurt told her.

"But I have." the Latino beamed at him and he raised an eyebrow in respond.  
"Then where's Brittany?" he asked and he could see the girl's face fall.

"She's at home…" she said as she'd just realized it.

"Then who…?" but Kurt already knew the answer and regretted that he had even asked. Because the last thing he wanted right now was to listen to lesbian love troubles.

"It was some girl that… she brought me a drink and–" Santana bit her lip, looking at her hands.

"Kurt what have I dooone?" Suddenly she was sobbing and Kurt closed his eyes, sighing tiredly.

Fucking hell.

"Ehm, you fucked a girl that wasn't your girlfriend." he told her matter-of-factly and it only made the girl cry even harder.

Kurt had always hated Santana whenever she was under the influence of alcohol. She could do whatever came to her mind without any kind of warning. Like now, she was crying uncontrollably, body draped over the wobbly table, her loud sobs causing just about everyone there to look at them.

"But –I… didn–t me…hea–n to!" she managed through her sobs and Kurt didn't even feel like a bad person when all he wanted was to get out of there.

"I…–_never_ want to hu –urt Bri…brittany!"

"Okay, Santana," Kurt cut in with a sigh. "I'm not even gonna pretend like I'm going to help you. 'Cause I'm not. I'm probably the last person you want to come to with relationship problems."

"Kuuurt!" she whined, "Don't goo! I'm so alo–ne…"

"Do I look like a fucking love guru? No? Thought so. I'm sorry San –or really I'm not, but I'm not staying here if it means I have to sit here and listen to your shit."

And so Kurt was up and out the door again, not noticing the man following him.

The rain had almost stopped now at least, so it wouldn't be that bad walking back to the apartment again.

But just after a few steps, he heard someone walking behind him. And it was a public place, so maybe it really wasn't that bad. But whoever it was walked close to him and he hated the way it made his heartbeat quickened.

"Hey." Kurt's breath hitched in his throat at the sound of the unfamiliar voice.

_Not again. Please, please, not again. _He begged in his mind.

"That wasn't very nice done of you, leaving a crying lady like that."

Now that voice he sort of remembered from somewhere. He turned around lowly and almost punched the teens face.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Frodo?" Kurt hissed and the short male just looked at him.

"Frodo? Now that's a new one." he said thoughtfully.

"What're you doing here?" Kurt asked again.

"Just, ya' know, enjoying my evening." Frodo shrugged.

"Well, now you better get out of my way before I get any funny ideas."

"I'm not scared of you, Kurt. You're not scaring me one bit and no matter how hard you _try, _you'll never be anything but a scared little boy who thinks his life is oh-so-hard."

"You don't know shit about my life. So don't even pretend to. It makes you look pathetic, nothing else."

"I don't know your life, or you. And I don't fucking want to either, but you have to stop acting like you're so badass, because you're not. It's embarrassing to watch."

"Hm, funny. I thought the exact same thing when I watched how _you _behaved in school just a couple' hours ago." Kurt smiled sweetly at the tiny young man. "Acting like you were oh-so-special and oh-so-tough."

Frodo smiled back. "That wasn't acting."

"Right." Kurt laughed. "You're funny."

Kurt was _done. _His blood boiled with hatred in a way he'd only experienced few times in his life, and he was so close to punching him he feared that it would actually happen if that curly haired hobbit opened his mouth again.

"But just so you know –"

"I know what it's like. You know, just because you've went through hell, doesn't mean you're the only one."

"That's deep man." Kurt said calmly, but his jaws were clenching. "Now you need to get the hell away from me."

"Oh, come on, Kurt, can't we just call it even?"

Oh, that fucking smile made him crazy, and not in a good way.

"No, we cannot, _Blaine, _there's nothing even about the two of us."

Well fuck. Saying that name out loud had a bigger impact on Kurt than what he thought it would. Had a bigger impact than it _should._

"Not really, no." Frodo agreed.

"Look. You need to stay the fuck away from me." Kurt told him and actually looked into his eyes.

And Kurt just had to stare for a second, because those eyes were so beautiful. They really were. Those hazel eyes…he'd seen them somewhere before.

Shit. _Fuck. _

The colour of those eyes was so close to the colour of his mother's eyes it was almost scary.

Why? _Why _did there have to be something else about this fucking guy that reminded him of things he shouldn't think about?

"What's your problem?"  
"_You're_ my problem. Now get the hell out of here."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"Why not?"

"This is a public place. You can't tell me what to do." Childish asshole.

"Fine." Kurt muttered, not even caring anymore.

He dragged himself as far away from the other boy as possible, ending up by a couple of low bushes just by the side of the building. He decided to sit down and rest, suddenly feeling exhausted for now apparent reason.

He rested the back of his head against the damp brick wall and cursed under his breath.

He felt dizzy. Why was he dizzy? He felt sick. Why did he feel sick?

Kurt looked around him and groaned loudly as he saw and remembered just where he sat exactly. The thin boy was on his feet within a second then, and the quick movement made his stomach turn. He forced the vomit coming up his throat back down to his stomach again and made a grimace in disgust. He hated throwing up. But it was almost worse to swallow it again once it was halfway out of your body. Why was he so freaking dumb?

The ground that hadn't been protected by the roof on the side of the wall wasn't damp. It was fucking soaked. So the second he sat down by the bushes, face rested against his knees as he tried to ignore where he was, his pants got soaked to. And completely covered in mud.

The male groaned loudly.

Life was wonderful.

His jeans, shoes and the lower part of his worn leather jacket were now covered in mud and his entire being was soaked. His head spun and his stomach was just..–fuck._ Fuck._

_Fucking cry baby! _He shouted to himself in his mind. _Pathetic piece of shit!_

His head hurt again when the memories once again tried to force its way into his head. He screwed his cyan eyes closed and pulled at his soaked hair.

Whatever.

It didn't matter.

Fuck this.

"Kurt?"

"Kurt?"

Quinn opened the door and tilted her head when she saw a seemingly unconscious Kurt lying on the ground.

"What –Kurt what the hell?"

_Well done Kurt. _The girl thought with a little smile on her face._ This is the first time you've gotten this drunk on a weekday in a long time. Bravo. _

Quinn chuckled quietly as she lifted Kurt up from the ground, nearly letting him go when she realized that he was practically drowned in his own clothes_. _But it was just water so it wasn't that big of a deal.

"Here, lift your arms up." she told him once they were inside, Kurt somewhat more awake. He did as he was told, but almost fell as he did.

"Wow. Okay. How much did you drink exactly?" she asked, a little amused.

Kurt didn't answer. He just fell down, no hands to catch himself or anything, he just fell. Luckily they stood close to Quinn's mattress, so at least his head didn't hit the floor. But it was still a pretty hard hit and she thought he would wake up and hit her for shoving him, but he didn't even as much as move a muscle in reaction.

The girl shook his head before kneeling down beside him, carefully removing his muddy pants and ripped t-shirt. What the hell had he been up to?

Because he didn't reek with alcohol as Quinn thought he would when she saw him, he just smelled of sweat and rain, if rain even had a scent…

"Sweet dreams, I guess." she whispered before walking over to Kurt's side of the room and slid her body between the thin blanket and the uncomfortable mattress.

But she couldn't fall asleep. Because she knew that the two of them weren't the only living beings in the cold room. She knew that she wasn't the only one lying on Kurt's mattress.

She knew that she had something inside her, something that really shouldn't be there.

* * *

**Sorry for the lack of... personality, I guess.. I can't really come up with anything to say.. As I've told you.t hese are old chapters and stuff, so I'll probably start the talking more when you've catched up to S&C, if that makes sense? Anways, thank you for reading (y)**


	5. Chapter 5

**I know I didn't upload a chapter yesterday, I'm sorry. M****y neck hurt so bad from writing all the time so I was barely by my computer at all for the first time in forever so I kind of forgot.. Sorry.. (Maybe I'll just put up two chapters today? I don't know, we'll see- Anyways, thank you all for reading ^^**

* * *

"I don't feel like goin' anywhere today." Kurt stated the next morning.

Last night had been… weird. And today his body had decided to punish him for walking all over town for hours in the rain. His head was pounding like freaking crazy and he was _freezing, _like even more than he usually did every morning in that freezer to apartment.

"You okay?" Quinn asked, not looking too well herself.

"I'm fucking fantastic." the boy replied, voice reeking with sarcasm.

"I just –you're not the one to stay home."

"I know. But I don't care. 'Cause I feel like shit and I'm not going anywhere."

"Fine… See you." the tall girl said, opening the front door.

"No funny ideas, okay?" she told him just as she was about to close it behind her.

_"__Bye Quinn."_ Kurt rolled his eyes with a little smile.

She closed the door and so he was alone in the little apartment. It was the first time in a long, long time. He usually never stayed home from school. Not because he didn't want to miss anything, he usually skipped about all classes anyways, but because he needed to go to school to get anything to eat.

Right. Food for the day. He hadn't thought about that.

But whatever, he'd gone without food for way longer than that, so it wouldn't be that bad.

Kurt spent most the first hours of so of his day in bed, taking advantage of the fact that Quinn wasn't home by 'stealing' her mattress to lie on top of his, plus her blanket so he wouldn't be as cold.

When his back wouldn't let him be lazy anymore, he got up and got his notepad, the one where he kept his song lyrics and stuff, the only thing he owned besides his guitar that was actually sort of important to him.

Sometimes it happened that he just wrote in it, like a sort of journal, but usually he'd rip the pages out and throw them away afterwards, feeling embarrassed.

But today he didn't care. He needed to get some things out of his system, and the best way for that was to write about it. Because when you saw the words on a piece of paper it was somehow a little easier to put it all in a better perspective, easier to put it behind you.

_'__It's my fault.' _He wrote.

_'__It's all my fault.__ If I hadn't been so damn selfish, maybe he'd still be alive. Maybe he'd still be here? I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. That sounds fucking stupid, but it really feels that way right now._

_There's something different about me, something so fucking wrong. _

_I keep having these damn dreams, seeing their faces everywhere. And things I've been able to push away every time they try and run me over… I'm barely able to control it at all anymore. It's fucking weird. __And almost a little scary._

_And call me crazy, but I think it has something to do with the new guy in school. He reminds me of so much. So much that I've lost. And he makes me __remember things__. I don't know how the fuck he does it, but somehow just knowing he exists, he affects me._

_It's so damn fucked up I don't even know. _

_Have I gone crazy if I think that this have something to do with him? Not that big of a deal if I __have__, I'm actually kinda surprised I've stayed sane this long. Or, not sane really, but still not __insane__. _

_Blaine. That's his name. __Why does his name have to be Blaine?__ It's… not fair._

_And his eyes… the color of his eyes are so close to the color that my mother had on hers it's not even funny. __And they're freaking gorgeous as well._

_I can't stand him. I just can't. Every time I see him my temper just… it freaks the fuck out, basically. It's like I can feel the hatred running through my veins or however they describe it in books and stuff like that. _

_It's sort of weird, I guess. I mean, I don't even know him. His appearance is enough to piss me off, makes me want to get the hell out of wherever I am at the moment. And I don't mind it staying like that._

_'__Cause if I get close to him, if I even get to know him… who knows what the fuck's gonna happen to me.'_

Kurt put down his pen and sighed tiredly.

He hadn't planned writing about Frodo. Because how was that going to help, exactly? It was his fault all of this happened anyway, so he shouldn't even acknowledge his freaking existence.

Yes, Kurt had decided that all of this had something to do with the hobbit. No, he didn't know how he'd come to that conclusion.

He'd just sort of decided it. It made sense, after all. At least it Kurt's mind. Because it was after he'd met the curly haired teen that his life had decided to get even more fucked up than it already was.

So now all he had to do was ignoring the shit out of that guy, and then he'd be able to control his mind again. Hopefully.

…Whatever.

He thought too much. That was his problem. He thought about this way more than he should. And overthinking things wasn't really the best thing to do.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop thinking. And of some reason, his mind kept wandering back to Frodo's eyes. Apparently his mind liked thinking about Frodo's eyes.

And maybe Kurt shouldn't blame it for it, because, damn, those eyes really were beautiful.

_Fucking hell. _He thought with a groan and stood up.

He made his way to the little room normally called bathroom, but in his case it wasn't really a bathroom. It was more of a hole in the wall with a cracked mirror, a toilet and a nonworking shower in it. But they called it bathroom since it was easier to say.

Once he got inside, he looked at his reflection in the dirty mirror.

He looked like a fucking zombie. Pale with dark bags under his eyes, hollow cheeks and ruffled hair. Even his normally shining cyan eyes seemed colorless and somewhat dead.

The teen was close to punching his reflection, as if it'd make the way he looked go away, but remembered how that had ended up last time. So he stopped himself and decided that why not use this worthless day to re-dye his hair? Then at least he'd get _something_ done.

Kurt bowed down carefully, trying to keep himself from getting dizzy from the total lack of food in his stomach, and almost let out a gasp when he saw what was inside the little single drawer under the bathroom sink.

It was filled to the near edge with those little sticks that told you if you were pregnant or not. Every single one of them positive.

What the fuck were they doing there?

Why was–?

…No. No.

No fucking way.

"What the hell Quinn?" he whispered. "What –"

How could she _do_ this?How could she not be more careful than this? How could she let something like this happen?

"Say what?" Santana looked at her, doubt written all over her face.

"Are you _crazy?" _

"Sorta, but that has nothing to do with this." The Latino rolled her eyes.

"Come one, San, I was kinda hoping to get some support."

"Oh, I'm supporting you, but not the _baby._"

"It's a part of me now, okay?"

"But it doesn't have to stay that way."

"Okay, fuck you, I'm going home now."

"Hey." Santana rolled her eyes again. "Quinn. Stop."

"What?"

"When're you gonna tell Kurt about this?"

Quinn bit her lip. "I'm gonna wait a while, I think. It was hard enough to tell you, and look at your reaction."

"Just because I reacted a certain way, doesn't mean Kurt will."

The girl snorted. "No, he'll probably kill me."

"Should I come with you?"

"No, I'm fine. But thanks." Quinn offered her a smile before hoping into the car seat.

"You know, you guys really shouldn't drive. There're cops everywhere around your apartment, and it'd really suck if you got that car taken away from you."

"It's fine, Santana." she laughed a little at the girl before closing the rusty car door.

The old pick up had been in hers and Kurt's 'possession' ever since that first night out of the hospital together. They'd 'found' it on a street somewhere, and needing a place to sleep it seemed good to take it since there was no one around that looked like the owner. They'd both been about fifteen at the time, but Quinn still knew how to pick the lock to unlock the doors and Kurt sort of knew how to drive.

"Kurt?"

"Hm?" Kurt looked up from his notebook, hair re-dyed, Quinn noticed, but his face looked… weird.

"What's up with you?"

"Oh nothing really." he muttered and went back to whatever he was writing.

Shrugging, Quinn went to get some water but stopped when she saw what was lying on the sink.

Her pregnancy tests.

_Fuck._

She should've thrown them away, just as she'd thought from the start.

"…Kurt?" she asked, back still turned to him.

"How long have you known?" he asked.

"I–"

"I –" he could hear his friend sigh tiredly. "About two days."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's –not just your everyday problem, Kurt, it's hard to tell people."

"So you haven't told anyone?"

"I've… told Santana."

Kurt smiled and nodded numbly.

"Right." he rubbed his face with his hands and sighed. "And when where you gonna tell me?"

"Dunno…" Quinn had turned around by then, and was now sitting on the floor, resting her head against the wall.

"I –Quinn… Why?" Kurt asked and he hated the way his voice sounded.

"Why didn't you tell me when you found out?"

"Because it's not that fucking easy, okay? I have something growing inside me, something that'll become a human being. It's not that freakin' easy to deal with.

"You know yourself how hard it is for you to tell people about yourself, something that's important. And –well, this is kind of important to me."

"What're you gonna do?"

"I'm keeping it." And she sounded so sure. Like it was the most obvious thing ever.

"_What?_"

"I'm not getting an abortion, Kurt. I can't do it."

"How can you be so sure already? You can't make that sort of d–"

"Kurt. I know what I want. And I want to keep my child."

"Okay, Quinn, I'm sorry but… what the fuck?" Kurt couldn't believe what she was saying. _Wouldn't _believe it.

"How're you going to raise a child? And I'm not saying that because I don't think you'll be a good mother, I'm saying it because we're in high school. I'm saying it because we live by ourselves, we have no money and technically no home. So how're you gonna manage to take care of a newborn?"

"…I'll work something out."

Kurt couldn't hold back a frown.

"Work something out? I don't mean to ruin your plans Quinn, but it won't work. I mean look at our fucking life." he waved around at the apartment with both his arms to make his point.

"No offense, but if you can't even manage to 'work something out' for yourself, I hardly think it'll work any better with a baby by your side."

"I can't just give it up."

"But you can. You said it yourself, _it, _that's just what it is. It has no gender or personality, it's not a person. It's barely _alive_ at this point."

"But it will get all that. But if I get an abortion… no. I can't."

"Quinn–"

"Look. I get it. You don't support my choices, I didn't think you would and it's fine. But I'm keeping the baby. And I'm gonna raise it, I'm going to be a good mother and I'm going to show my child that I love it."

"I… does this have something to do with–?"

"This has nothing to do with my childhood, Kurt. It has to do with my life and what I want to do with it."

Kurt stopped arguing. There really was no point. Because Quinn had made up her mind, and when she had had up her mind about something, there was no stop in her.

But a _baby? Really?_ No. Kurt couldn't understand her one bit. He knew it wasn't going to work. Not with the way the two of them lived now.

"Who's the father?" he asked then, remembering that it had been left out of the conversation this far.

"…Does it matter?"

"Yes?"

"Why?"

_Because I care about you Quinn. _Kurt thought but wouldn't say it out loud. No way he'd ever.

"Just tell me?"

She sighed, walking over to her mattress.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I think it's…"

"What's the problem?"

"I think it's Noah."

Kurt stared at her.

"Noah _Puckerman? _The Noah who joined _Glee club?" _

"…Yes." Quinn sighed.

"Okay. Wow. What the hell?"

"Honestly, I don't know what the fuck happened. It just did and now it's done."

"I thought he was all hot about Lauren?"

"He is. But they're sort of on the rocks or whatever. So… yeah."

"It was a petty fuck?"

"_No._ Or, yeah. Or I don't know. What's done is done, okay?"

"You're fucking _pregnant, _Quinn. Do you know what that means? It means that you have a growing… thing inside your body that's gonna live off of your energy and stuff for _nine months. _And once a certain time have passed, you won't be able to go back and none of your clothes gonna fit your body anymore. And not to mention _after _those nine months… you'll be stuck with that kid _forever._"

"I know what being pregnant means, Kurt." she rolled her eyes at her friend. "And I know all about the morning sickness and the pains and all that other shit, but I'm not giving up my child."

Kurt shook his head. "You know what? I actually think you've finally lost your mind completely."

"Then it's just you left I guess." she smiled and Kurt forced his lips to return the gesture.

But he wasn't feeling like smiling or joking or any of that.

His everything was a freaking chaos. His life had turned upside down completely during the last week and it was just… it wasn't cool.

First his mind started to get all fucked again and now…

_Quinn's pregnant and she's keeping the damn thing. _Kurt couldn't make any sense out of any of it.

Was he living in a Soap Opera? Like, really? Because as far as he knew, this wasn't freaking normal at any level what so ever.

Kurt really hated it but he felt really sort of… protective towards Quinn in this whole situation.

Because… he did really love her.

She was the only person left in this world that Kurt actually let himself care about, the only one he actually trusted.

So for him to just stand aside and let Quinn turn her life completely upside down as well? He wouldn't be able to do that.

Because if he didn't have Quinn he would have absolutely no one left. And he wasn't strong enough to be alone right now.

Because right now he was actually really weak, he needed someone to be there for him.

And if Quinn wasn't going to be that someone, he didn't know who was.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:  
So, first of all, I want to thank 'tolebotiji', whoever you are, for leaving your rivew, and I also want to respond to it, so I hope you're going to read this**.

**_"This fic is more Queen-Kurt than a Klaine fic. The lack of Klaine is dissapointed. If there isn't more interaction between Kurt and Blaine I would stop reading this because I really don't care about Queen."_** **you said. **

**And first of all, I really want to thank you. Because you're the first one that've commented on this story and not told me how great it is. So I really appreciate it. :) **  
**And second of all; I agree with you. There's a lot of Quinn in this story, and a lot of Kurt and Quinn. I wanted to add her as one of the key-characters, but since this website of some reason allows you only to add two names, I had no choice than to leave her out. (Since this ****_is _****a Klaine fic.)**  
**There'll be quite a few more chapters where Klaine are not together like boyfriends, but that's a part of the story. You'll get to follow bot Kurt, Blaine ****_and _****Quinn during a specific period of time. So if you really can't stand her or if you simply don't give a shit, I'm sorry but this story just isn't for you. **  
**A big point in this fic is that Kurt has major problems with trusting and letting people in. But he knows Quinn and he trusts her. Now with the pregnancy they'll face ups and downs in their friendship. And that is something that is going to happen. There'll be character development for Quinn and you'll get to follow her quite a bit. Things will****_ of course_**** happen between Kurt and Blaine in this story, but you'll have to wait. Because that's not the whole point of this thing.**  
**But I agree with you, I really do. At this point, this is more of a Quinn and Kurt fanfiction than a Klaine one. But since I can't add her to the characters.. you get it, I've already written it.**  
**So, there'll be quite a few more chapters with no Kurt and Blaine boyfriends-happiness-hallelujah in a while, but it'll be there for sure. But it'll take time, it's the only way for this to seem at least a little logical. And if any of you really can't stand Quinn and all you want is to read about Kurt and Blaine in a relationship now, now, now, without having to read a whole lot of story development first, don't continue reading this.**

**So, I hope I made sense? Because I tried my best to. But yeah. Here's another chapter (y)**

* * *

The music was loud in his ears, flowing through his body, making it move without his control.

The air was hot. So hot. Bodies everywhere, sweating, dancing, just like him.

The alcohol flowed through his veins, making everything so wonderfully numb and it made everything so… not important. Made everything seem so distant. Like nothing mattered. Nothing but there and then.

Kurt was dancing like nothing mattered on the little dance floor in Scandals. There were guys all around him, some of them actually shirtless, and life was actually quite good.

It was Saturday and it had been three days since he'd found out that the only person left that he cared about was about to die.

Because Quinn was going to die if she kept her baby. Not like die, die; but the person she was now, the person that actually meant a whole lot to Kurt, she would die.

His friend was going to leave him. Alone. Just because she had a fucking fetus inside of her.  
So Kurt was done. He saw nothing but hopelessness and didn't care that other people might think that he overreacted. Because with his life, with his past, he wasn't overreacting.

The young male had already experienced losing absolutely everything in his life, and he wasn't sure if he could do it again.

"Kurt, can we go home? I really don't feel like staying." he heard a female voice say. Why did she know his name? Why was she talking to him? He didn't want anything to do with her.

"Kurt." said the voice, a bit sternly, and he could finally remember who the voice belonged to. But why was she there? Shouldn't she be at home sowing baby clothes?

"Kurt for fuck sakes, I know you hear me and I know you're mad or whatever, but if you won't come now, you'll have to walk home."

Kurt groaned. Why did she have to be so mean to him? All he wanted to do was just… have a bit of fun for once. But of course that wouldn't be possible. Of course Quinn had to ruin it.

He didn't want to go _home. _Not when he could just be here, surrounded by hot guys buying him drinks and music so loud it took away almost all the shitty thoughts in his head.

But he didn't want to walk home. _Wouldn't _walk home. Fuck no.

So he tangled himself out from the mob of drunk, dancing people and shuffled after Quinn, not really able to see straight.

"I'm driving." he heard Quinn's voice and he shook his head.

"Nope. I am." he told her, shaking his head, making it spin violently.

Kurt thought he could hear a little laugh from the girl, but wasn't sure.

"I'm driving, Kurt, you're too drunk to drive tonight."

"'M not _that_ drunk." the boy protested, words slurred.

"Right. Then walk in a straight line."

"Quinn, I'm _gay, _I don't do _anything _straight." Kurt grinned at her and he found himself laughing just as he saw his roommate shake her head before hopping up on the driver's seat.

"H–hey, Quinny, you shouldn't drive… You're _pregnant._"

"I can still drive even if I'm pregnant, dumbass."

"Well excusez moi then." he muttered and closed the car door.

"Hey, Quinn, hey, you know what you can name the baby if it's a boy?"

She didn't answer him. She didn't even look at him.

"Kurt junior!" the boy beamed.

"I thought you didn't want me to have a child."

"Aand I don'. But ya' know, you won' listen to me. No'one listens to me." Kurt grinned.

"_So have the baby!_ Praise the lord! 'nd it it's a boy you c'n name it Kurt junior."

"Stop talking, Kurt, you're embarrassing yourself." Quinn muttered, trying to stay focused on the road.

She hadn't expected Kurt to do as he was told, however. He'd expected him to argue against her, tell her that she wasn't his mother and stuff like that. But he went silent the second he told him to, and just seconds later he was asleep.

Quinn shook her head.

That boy was a wreck. Had been even more of one than usual the last couple of days, ever since he found out that she were with child.

He'd been really weird ever since. Like, distant and sort of cold. It didn't feel too grate, if she was to be honest, it felt like she'd traveled back to when the two of them had first met.

_ "__Name's Quinn."_

_ "__And you're telling me because?"_

_ "__We're sharing a room. I thought we might as well get to know each other."_

_ "__In your dreams."_

Since then a lot of things had changed. It had come slowly, but had still happened.

Quinn knew full well that her friend wouldn't approve of her situation, her decisions. But she couldn't cave just because what it did to him, she had to do this. She couldn't give up her child. Even if it wasn't really a child yet, it'd still be in a couple of months, and she'd be there for it and support it.

All her life, Quinn had secretly wondered what was wrong with her, why her parents didn't want her. She'd been given up for adoption when she was just a baby and she had never met her parents. She'd grown up without the love that every child needs, the love of a family. Quinn had never had that.

When she of some reason fled from the adoption center at about ten years of age, she'd found a group of girl, every one of them at least two years older than her, with lives as fucked up as hers. She'd stayed with the five teenagers and for about two years they lived in an abandoned house, a little like Kurt and her now.

Things had started to get out of hand after those first two years. They started stealing more and more, just for the fun of it, just because they could. At first they'd only taken things that they desperately needed, but it increased as they obviously got better.

Then one night they got caught, badly so, and everything went downhill from there in the young girl's life.

She got sent to Juvie, she didn't really know what it was, but it was sort of a prison for miners, she guessed. Once she got out of there after a couple of months, she was enrolled at the Jane Adams Academy, a school for young juvenile girls. She lived there together with the five girls that had become the closest to a family Quinn had ever experienced up to that point in her life. Quinn had been the youngest girl at that school, only just turned twelve.

When she had told Kurt a little about everything that had happened before they met, he'd said that it sounded like 'She'd lived her life in the world of Oliver Twist.' And maybe that was a good explanation.

Practically growing up on the street like she had. Life already filled with thievery at ten and drugs at thirteen.

It hadn't been too easy.

But when she'd met Kurt, and god this sounded so cheesy she could barely stand to think it, but her life had gotten a little brighter again after she got separated with the girls.

Kurt had become her new family, so she really hoped that this wouldn't ruin everything they had.

When Kurt woke up the next morning he didn't remember too much about the night before. Just that he'd danced a lot. And that Quinn had been there, and that she'd dragged him home. But other than that, Kurt wasn't really able to recall anything else.

When he carefully sat up, his head throbbed worse than ever and Kurt groaned.

Fucking hangovers. He hated them. Why was it that everything that was actually enjoyable came with a price?

"Morning sleepyhead."

Kurt turned around.

"Quinn. You're already up."

"It's 2pm, dummy."

"Oh… Why didn't you wake me?"

"I tried. But you wouldn't have it." Quinn winked before turning around, washing a bucket placed in the sink.

"Was that my fault?" asked Kurt and almost felt embarrassed; he hated vomiting in front of people.

"…No. It was me."

"Right." he muttered before lying back down.

Kurt had heard about the morning sickness that came with the whole pregnancy thing, but he'd had no idea that it'd start this early on.

Shit, this was really going to be hard, wasn't it?

"Quinn…?" Kurt asked silently once he'd finally managed to drag himself out of bed, and he was now sitting on the floor pealing an orange.

His blue eyes searched hers and when their gazes met, his cyan orbs were filled with a concern that almost shocked her.

"Hm?"

"Are you sure you'll be able to do this?"  
Quinn turned around and stared at her roommate.

_Was he concerned?_

"I–I'm not sure, but there's only one way to find out."

"Yeah but… I don't know, what if you regret it? Then you're stuck with a kid all your life." Kurt mumbled, knowing what Quinn felt about giving up children for adoption.

"Like, you're _eighteen_. You haven't even graduated yet…"

"Are you saying you _care?" _Quinn scoffed, expecting Kurt to mutter something in his defense before getting as far away from her as possible. But that wasn't really what happened.

"Yes, actually, I do care." he mumbled, refusing to look up. "And I don't want you to do something you'll regret."

The girl's heart melted at his words, and also at how adorably… shy he seemed all of a sudden.

"Hey, I can do this." she assured. "Or I think I can at least, there's no way to be completely curtain I guess, but I'm gonna try."

"'Kay." And so was the shy Kurt gone as sudden as it had appeared and he walked away from her, seemingly not too happy at what had just happened.

_"__Hey is there someone in– what the–? Are you –?…Shit! Help! Someone! Someone call an ambulance!"_

Kurt shook his head. Was that another memory? Or was it just another one of his dreams? He couldn't be completely sure, actually.

"I –I gotta go, I'll be back soon." he mumbled and turned around. He walked as slow and calm as he possibly could, but as soon he knew that the girls couldn't see him, he started running.

He ran down the school corridors as fast as he could, pushing the students that didn't move when they saw him out of the way. He needed to get away, needed to sort his fucked up head out.

"Shit. Shitshitshit." he grunted as he sunk down on the floor in the boy's locker room.

This was fucked. _Everything _was fucked.

The room was dark and there was no one present but himself, but somehow Kurt still felt like he was watched, like he was in some sort of spotlight.

_I miss you. Why aren't you here anymore?_ _I miss you._

He pulled at his hair furiously as he couldn't stop the thought from repeating itself over and over in his head, hitting him like a fist to the gut every time. He curled up against the wall, hugging his knees, trying to make himself as tiny and unnoticeable as possible.

Then the sound of an opening door reached his ears and a second later a strong light hit his face. And by the angle of the light source, Kurt could tell that whoever it was who just entered the locker room came from the exercising room that was always open. He screwed his eyes shut and hid himself as well as he could behind his thin arms. But of course that didn't hinder the person from seeing who he was.

"Well, well… grumpy are we?"

_Oh fucking hell…_

Kurt stood up in the split of a second, positioning himself as if he was ready to fight.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, hobbit?" Kurt spat and the other male just smiled.

"You're in the boy's locker room, sweetie, I'm allowed here too, ya' know."

"What's wrong with you?" he hissed, fists still knot into fists.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said, what the fuck is wrong with you?" the already angry teenager repeated.

"Oh, there isn't anything wrong with me." answered the hobbit sweetly. "And I'm going to change now so kindly get the fuck out of here."

"Why? I won't look so don't worry." Kurt teased.

"Shut up and fuck off." Blaine smil–Frodo. _Frodo _smiled. Fucking hell.

"Whatever. Not really up for watching someone like you change anyways."

Shutting the door behind him, maybe with a little more force than necessary, he could hear a little laugher from the short boy.

_What was _with_ that guy?_

Once again he started to walk down the corridor, this time being the only one there.

"Hey faggot!" called a voice then and Kurt sighed. Or maybe he wasn't the only one.

_Give me a fucking break._

"Just give it up, Karofsky." he muttered and kept walking, much to the jocks frustration.

One second the pale teen was walking down the boring high school hallway; and the other he was pushed into the ever ongoing rows of red lockers by a pair of big hands. Not being prepared for this at all, Kurt slammed head-first into the cold metal.

"Are you really this desperate to end your life?" he asked the big male, his usually cyan blue eyes now almost black with anger.

First the hobbit and now _this. _What did his life want with him today?

"I'm just here to make you pay for what you did."

"You're –what?"

"You made me pass out, _remember? _Made me look like a fool in front of my teammates. " the football player grumbled in his deep voice.

"Oh, that wasn't _my _fault. And if you don't want that to happen again, you better piss off right now." he threatened.

"I'm not scared of you, you dirty little faggot!"

"Right." Kurt took a step towards the jock with a competitive smirk on his face, making the other boy take a few steps back.

"Not scared, huh?" the tall boy laughed evilly. "Fuck off, Karofsky."

"You're going to pay for what you did –!" his words died as a bony knee connected to his stomach, only to be accompanied with a fist to his face and then a steel-toed boot to his ribs as he sunk to the floor, whining quietly, hugging his burly body.

Kurt just looked down on the pitiful jock.

"When are you ever going to learn, David?" Kurt shook his head with a bored sigh.

Then he turned around and walked away from the whining male, finally left alone. But alone wasn't as good of an idea as he'd thought. Alone meant silence. And silence mean chaos.

_I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you so much I can't fucking stand it. _

_Please come back to me…_

_Blaine…_

* * *

**Dun-dun-duuuun...! Sort of.. I don't know. But anyways, hope you liked it ^^**


	7. Chapter 7

_"__Kurt honey, you need to wake up. Breakfast is ready."_

"Just five more minutes, mom."

"Hummel! Fucking hell, Kurt wake up!"

_Wait, what?_

Kurt tried to open his eyes but his eyelids felt heavier than a bus so he just groaned, ignoring the voice trying to get a reaction from him.

_"__Come on, son, eat up and we'll go out and practice your bicycle riding."_

"But 'm already full…"

"Kurt this isn't funny. Open your damn eyes already."

"Can't we just go out now?" mumbled Kurt tiredly, voice even more high-pitched than usual, but still lower somehow.

"Can you hear me? Kurt? You need to give me some sort of reaction here." the voice sounded anxious and when the pale boy got his body violently shaken again he was finally able to regain just a little consciousness.

He managed to make out that he was lying on something warm and soft, and incredibly comfortable.

A bed? No that wasn't it.

A _lap?_…Yes.

Kurt's eyes flew open when he realized that the upper half of his body was placed in someone's lap and tried to stand up. But his body wouldn't let him, so instead he just rolled off of whomever it was, hitting his head in the cold floor as he did.

"Are you okay? What happened?"

His eyes widened even more when he recognized the voice and turned around to see its owner.

"You again?" Kurt hissed, rubbing his somewhat sore head.

"Are you okay?" the male repeated.

"Why do you even care?" he snapped back.

"I just –you were passed out on the fucking floor and wouldn't move a muscle, so of course I got a little concerned!" the hobbit defended and Kurt almost rolled his eyes.

"You don't know me."

"I know I don't." Frodo rolled his eyes. "Have I _said _I do?"

"…No I guess not." Kurt muttered and stood up, only to totally lose his balance as he tried.

"Wow, hey, take it easy."

"Get away from me." Kurt warned, slapping the boy's stretched out arms away, jaws clenching.

"How many times do I have to tell you? _Stay the hell away from me."_

"You know what? You're a real ass. I just helped you when you were laying passed out on the floor while everyone else just walked by. I dragged you through the whole fucking school to find an empty bathroom, missing the beginning of class doing so."

Kurt wrinkled his eyebrows. He hadn't really expected the other boy to be someone that cared about missing a few minutes in class.

"Yeah well I didn't ask for your help."

"No, you're right. But just so you know, you won't get people to like you by being a total ass all the time."

"I don't need people to like me. Doin' better without them anyway."

"Not everyone are like the once in this school. There're people out there who're m –"

Kurt laughed. "I don't need your freakin' therapy." he told him.

"And you're not that nice all the time either." he pointed out, thinking of all the whispers he'd heard about the teen, the once that had made Kurt so angry because it apparently was so much easier for the other boy to get a reputation than it had been for him. "So don't give me any of that nice crap."

"Oh I can be nice when I want to, unlike you, who apparently have a stone to heart."

"You don't _know _me." Kurt gave a little laughter again, completely clear of joy or kindness.

"Everyone in this school knows you, Hummel." Frodo smiled sweetly before exiting the bathroom, purposely nudging Kurt's shoulder with his own as he went.

_Fucking liar. _The cyan eyed boy thought to himself as he examined his face in the bathroom mirror. _No one knows me. _

Blaine sighed, frustrated with himself to no end.

He _had _to stop acknowledge that boy's existence, just as he told him again and again.

But somehow he couldn't, not all the time anyways.

It wasn't as if Blaine could control it or anything, he'd never really been good at controlling his mind and stuff. But he just got really pissed that he couldn't right now. 'Cause there was no logic whatso-fucking-ever to why he continued to even acknowledge that jerk's existence.

Kurt Hummel really was a jerk. A totally heartless jerk. That really summed up the boy's behavior. Sure, Blaine wasn't Mr. Nice Guy even near to half of the time, but it was still different with Kurt. Because that boy was just cold to his so called victims. He'd beat them up without caring the least that they were pleading, keep on kicking a person that was already on the ground without the slightest hesitation. Blaine had even heard that he'd gone so far as to beat one of the football jocks unconscious. And that was just going too far in Blaine's eyes. Even if he'd done it standing up to one of the biggest bullies to ever walk the William McKinley corridors.

But Kurt 'badass' probably had a reason to behave like he did, Blaine kept thinking. He knew he, himself, had anyway.

As the short male walked down the McKinley hallway, no one made eye contact with him. He'd just been at the school for about two or so weeks, but he'd never had any trouble with getting people to know his face, something he was forever grateful for.

The second he was out the doors and in the parking lot, he got the pack of cigarettes up from one of the many pockets in his leatherjacket, lit one of the few left and brought it to his lips, eagerly sucking the poisonous smoke down in his lungs. He could feel the affect the nicotine had on his body instantly and he sighed as he threw the little roll of paper to the ground seconds later.

He knew that it wasn't good for him to smoke, _everyone _knew that after all, and he'd thought he'd be able to keep it under control, but of course he'd been wrong as always. And it wasn't like it was a crime or anything. There were things he could do that were far worse. Things he'd dealt with before, but had managed to stop.

As Blaine straddled his motorcycle he couldn't keep a smug smile off his face, feeling the dreamy looks from the freshman girls that secretly admired him. He knew that they knew he was gay, and he knew that most of them didn't care. It had come to his attention that some of them even though it made the whole thing better too. Where the logic in that came from, he had no idea. It was all pretty fucked up in his mind.

But whatever, he had nothing against being the object for teenage girl crushes, as long as they didn't come up to him and ask him to sign their panties or some weird shit like that.

As long as he was left just about completely alone, he'd be fine.

"Blainy-boo? You're home late today. How was school honey?" Blaine heard a high-pitched voice sing from the kitchen the second he sat foot in the house.

"Ehm, mom…?" he mumbled, approaching the tiny woman hesitantly. "You okay?"

"Yes, yes of course I'm okay, honey!" she beamed at him, and he couldn't avoid noticing the slightly misty and sort of faraway look in her green eyes.

"Go wash your hands, sweetie, dad'll be home soon."

Blaine's face fell, the rest of his everything following alongside with it.

Fuck. Not this shit again.

"Mom, dad's not –" Blaine cut himself off. He couldn't bring himself to do anything about the situation. Today he'd just let it be. He didn't have the energy to do anything else.

"Quinn…?"

"Hm?" she looked up from her drawing.

"I –think I maybe, sort of want to talk to you about something…" Kurt mumbled quietly, looking down at his lap.

"…What?" she looked at him in surprise. Because _'we need to talk' _wasn't really something that he normally said. It was probably the first time she'd heard those words coming out of that boy's mouth, actually.

"I –I think I need to." he mumbled again, this time so quietly she could barely hear him.

"I think it'll help…"

Shit… Why was he doing this? He knew he shouldn't, deep down, knew it wasn't good. But somehow it still felt like he needed it.

"Yeah." Quinn gave him a small, warm smile. "Yeah, I think it would."

"But, I have no idea where to start." Kurt hesitated for a second. "D'you think you could, like, help me or something? Ask me questions or something like that?"

"Ehm, sure." she went silent for a second, taken aback by how tiny and helpless Kurt looked.

Fuck. Quinn didn't want to, he could feel it. She was getting uncomfortable. He shouldn't do this. He was such a dumbass.

"Know what? Forget it. Forget what I just said. It was a stupid idea–"

"No. Kurt, I want to do this. I want to help you. I'm just surprised that you asked, that's all."

"…Okay."

"So. Questions." Quinn threw her sketchbook over her bed and tried to think of a good first question, one that didn't require that much information.

"Do you have any idea what you told me about your parents when you blacked out that day? Or why it happened in the first place?"

Kurt hid his face behind his hands. He just couldn't look at the girl at the moment. It was too weird.

"No. It just sort of did."

Right. That didn't really give her anything to work on for the next question. But it was something.

"Should I tell you what you said?" Maybe it'd be good for him to hear it.

"I –don't know. Try."

Quinn nodded. "It was sort of really slurred to I wasn't able to catch much. But you said something about bicycle training and pancakes. And then it was things like 'why did she leave?' and 'why did he do that?'"

Kurt could feel his lips turn into a little smile at the mentioning of the bicycle training. It was a quite strong memory for him now when he'd started to let himself remember.

"And… I don't know what it was, but you mumbled a lot about that something was your fault and that he wouldn't have died if it wasn't for you."

Kurt's face fell behind his hands.

"And you don't have to tell me but –who was it you talked about then?"

This was something, the only thing really, that he'd said that had bugged Quinn. It was sort of not possible to not think more of it when a friend like Kurt broke down and mumbled 'I killed him. I killed him. It's my fault.' again and again. It was just something that really staid in your head.

Kurt's heart beat hard and insanely fast in his chest. Should he tell her? Would he be able to?

"You don't have to tell me." Quinn told him softly.

"No…No I need to." Kurt sighed, trying to calm his nerves. "I …was talking 'bout Blaine."

"…Blaine? Blaine Anderson? But I –thought that you'd never met him before?"

"No. I haven't." Kurt dropped his hands from his face .

"Blaine was my brother." he smiled sadly.

_What?_

"Your –but… You never told me you had a brother." Quinn breathed.

"No I've… sort of avoided thinking of him the last years."

Kurt's head spun like crazy. Why the fuck was he talking about this voluntarily?

"What happened?" she asked carefully, not wanting to push Kurt too far.

He wanted to tell her. He did. He'd finally accepted that he needed to talk about things, some things at least, but he just couldn't form his lips the right way to get the words out. So instead he ripped out a page from one of his schoolbooks from the stack beside his mattress, wrote the only thing he could manage to write down on it and passed it to Quinn, who had somehow moved herself from her bed to sit down just at the end of Kurt's. When it had happened her had no idea.

_'__Fire.' _Read the girl. And now when she thought about it, he had mentioned something about it being too hot and bright.

"Kurt –" she whispered. Her whole existence itched with curiosity. She wanted to know more of what had happened, and preferably right away. But she would just have to wait. The last thing she wanted to do was to push Kurt now when he'd actually opened up the situation with 'I want to talk'.

"I think that'll be it for now." Kurt sighed heavily. "I'm beat, think I'll just go to sleep."

"What about Scandals?"

"Right… Forget it. I'll just skip tonight." he mumbled.

Shit. He was really acting weird, wasn't he?

"Hey Quinn," Kurt mumbled as she stood up.

"Yeah?"

"…Thank you for listening." he smiled. He actually _smiled and said thank you._

"You're scaring me…" she muttered and Kurt suppressed a smile.

"Shut up prego."

* * *

**A little bit of Blaine and his life there at least. And a tiny glint of Kurt's whole.. situation, I guess. And you guys don't have long until you've caught up with S&C now. Maybe that's not a good thing since you'll have to start waiting for chapters for about a week or so, but yeah. **

**Thank you all for reading and following and what not, really means a lot!**


	8. Chapter 8

"You serious?"

"Yeah totally, we should all go."

"No fucking way, Sheila."

"Why not?" she whined.

"There'll be free booze." Mackenzie whispered encouraging and Kurt groaned.

"I said no, okay?"

"Why?" Ronnie asked.

"I told you already," the boy gave a frustrated sigh. "Noah Puckerman is nothing but a worthless little loser that joined Glee club 'cause of some fucking _girl. _He doesn't deserve our attention."

"That's not what you said before –"

"That's 'cause the fucker wasn't in Glee club dancing around Zizes with puppy dog eyes before." Quinn spoke up and Kurt looked over at his roommate. She'd been sitting quiet since Puck's apparent Halloween party became the center conversation. Kurt hadn't thought about it that much, since he knew all about the baby and stuff.

"Right..." Ronnie looked slightly defeated, but then her face shone up again.

"Then why don't we just all go there and crash the party?" she asked with enthusiasm.

This time it was Santana's turn to answer.

"Really?" she asked, eyebrows high on her forehead, a tired look on her face.

"Like gay boy said just moments ago, Puck's not worthy of our attention anymore. And if we go there and ruin the thing, while that sound fun, it would be giving him attention. Which we shouldn't. Get it?" the brunette smiled sweetly at the big girl.

"Fine." she muttered and went back to biting her nails.

There were just a couple of seconds in silence before,

"Well, well, look who's here." Mackenzie grinned, took a last drag of her cigarette before throwing it on the ground and stomped on it with her left heel, all in an overdoing gesture.

Standing just outside the torn-open rusty 'gate' that lead to under the bleachers, the usual Skank 'hang out', stood a short girl. Visibly shaking, but also visibly trying not to. Kurt kind of recognized her face but didn't know the girl's name. But he could almost tell that she was probably very annoying, judging from the way she dressed, the look on her face and just, from her whole posture, really.

"And who are you?" asked Sheila, looking as dangerous as she could manage.

"Berry." Kurt heard Quinn acknowledge when the girl wouldn't answer.

_Berry?_ What the hell kind of name was that?

"You know her?" Ronnie asked doubtingly.

"Nah. Puck just mentioned her–"

"Puck? What the fuck Quinn? What were you doing with _him?"_ Santana asked from where she sat, Brittany lying with her head placed in the Latino's lap, seemingly sleeping.

_Weren't they like, broken up or something? _Kurt though for a second when he saw their intertwined fingers, but decided that he didn't care.

"Whatever!" Kurt cut in before Quinn had to explain, thinking that that was probably something that the girl would like to avoid at the moment being.

"What are you doing here, Nose?" he asked then, turning to the now very pale girl.

"I… uhm–"

"Out with it!" Mackenzie nearly growled and Kurt had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. That girl had always had a short temper, even worse than he himself, when it came to the total Neanderthals at the school.

"Now, now, take it easy, Mackie." Quinn coed, slowly walking towards the insanely tiny girl. Like really, she was even shorter than that hobbit guy, which Kurt hadn't though would be possible.

_What the hell Quinn? _Kurt thought to himself with a groan as the _straight_ girldidn't stop until she was only about an inch or so away from the still almost completely unknown girl, cupping her face with her right hand and lowered her face so their noses touched. The brunette's face paled completely before transforming into a tomato as she turned her face away, desperately looking anywhere but at the taller girl.

"Now tell me…" Quinn whispered. "What was it that you wanted to tell us?"

Kurt and the others had to suppress their laughter when the poor girl nearly passed out with embarrassment as Quinn nibbled on her left earlobe softly. Her face was possibly the reddest Kurt had ever seen throughout his life. Which said quite a lot if you thought of all the straight boys Kurt had teased in the locker rooms during the years just for the fun of it.

"Hm?" she asked quietly when the short girl mumbled something that was impossible to catch.

"I –I have a boyfriend!" she squeaked in a high-pitched voice full of panic.

Kurt could hear Santana actually laugh at this and he found himself quite enjoying the scenes as well.

"Hmm… 'M disappointed." the pink haired girl mumbled and backed away, but still stood closer to the girl than you normally did during a conversation when she spoke again,

"You're very rude, you know." she coed. "Me and my friends have asked you numerous of times… Why. Are. You. Here?"  
"Right…" she took a deep breath and screw her brown eyes shut tightly. And when she opened them again she seemed refilled with courage.

"I am Rachel Berry." she began and Kurt felt slightly relieved to finally have a full name. "And on behalf of the William McKinley High school Glee Club, I kindly ask of you _not _to be there for Noah Puckerman's Halloween party." she informed them, chin high in the air, looking freaking ridiculous if you asked Kurt.

"Right." Rachel nodded when she was done, looking proud of herself for no reason, really.

"Right." Mackenzie repeated and took a step towards her. "I'll give you ten bucks if you let me beat her up, Quinn." she said, looking at Rachel from head to toe.

Quinn tilted her head slightly to the side, examining the girl as well.

"Nah." she decided then. "Give us your lunch money and you're good to go."

With trembling hands, the girl reached into her red purse sort of thing, got out a little pink wallet and gave them the money from inside.

"Now run along." Quinn waved and with red ears and cheeks, the girl did as she was told.

"What? Gotta give the girl credits for coming here all by herself." she shrugged as she turned around and found her fellow Skanks giving her questioning looks.

"You're not turning soft are you?" Sheila muttered and Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Come on guys, stop whining, I got her money okay?" Kurt nodded in agreement and grabbed the money when it was offered to him.

"Hey–" Santana started.

"San, I deserve this don't you think?" asked Quinn and looked at the girl, a look in her eye that Kurt at first got a little confused by, before remembering that she, too, knew about the pregnancy.

"Fine. But just this time." she muttered and kissed her now awake girlfriend on the cheek.

"What happened?" she asked, the usual confused look on her face

"You fell asleep again, Britt-britt."

The two lovebirds kept mumbling by themselves and Kurt turned around to the rest of the group.

"So, what d'ya'll say 'bout going to that party after all?" he smirked and he could see Ronnie smile.

"Sure! But –why the sudden change of mind?"

"Well as Mrs. Nose just said, it won't be that much of a party without the seven of us there. And it would be a shame to turn down an offer involving free alcohol, don't you think?" he smiled.

"So when's this spectacle anyway?"

"Halloween?"

"When's Halloween?"

"Last October?" Sheila looked at him with furrowed eyebrows and Kurt rolled his eyes.

"I know, but how long till Halloween?"

"'Bout two weeks I think." she replied after a second of thinking.

"Two _weeks?"_ Kurt sighed. Fucking hell. He didn't have time to wait _that _long.

"Yup. Two weeks and two days."

"Fantastic." he muttered and sat down on the ground. He just had to be satisfied with Scandals for now then.

He was getting pretty sick of that place of some reason. Maybe because Quinn next to never came there with him anymore, it really was completely different to go there alone. He hadn't thought of that before, had even thought that I'd be better if he was there alone sometimes. But it turns out, he was wrong about yet another thing.

So most nights he just spent at 'home', writing lyrics and playing on his guitar quietly.

But it was boring as fuck so Kurt really looked forward to Halloween.

"Hey, Anderson!" called a voice. "Anderson! Wait up!"

Blaine groaned, but didn't slow down his phase.

"Anderson! Hey!"

"Puck for Christ sake, just fuck off."

"Would you just _slow down –"_

"No." Blaine muttered and pushed the door the bathroom open.

"Hey, what's your problem?"

"You're my problem, _Noah." _Blaine smiled sweetly at the larger teen.

"I'm –why?"

"'Cause you're always following me around like a fucking puppy and I'm kinda sick of it."

"I just –thought…" the jock went silent and looked down at his feet, not knowing what to say next.

"I just thought we could be bros." he mumbled and Blaine chuckled.

"And why's that?"  
"'Cause, ya' know, we're both kinda badass and –"

"You're in Glee club, Puckerman, you're not badass. And I'm not either. Don't like that term."

Puck groaned. "Why's singing such a bad thing?"

"It's not the singing, it's the dancing and the songs you sing and the people that are in it and just –have you even _seen _that teacher?"

"Mr. Schue's the coolest teacher ever." grumbled Noah.  
"Right." Blaine suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

"Look, I don't have anything against that club 'cause it's low on the food chain or whatever, I just can't stand the thing, that's all. And I can't really stand you either, so just kindly leave me the fuck alone, 'kay?" Blaine smiled again.

"Come on Anders–"

"I'm gonna take a piss now and as long as you don't feel like joining, you better just leave."

"Fine." the larger male turned to leave and Blaine was just about to let out a sigh of relief but just then he heard that obnoxious voice talking to him again and he listened without really wanting to.

"There'll be a party at my place at Halloween if you're interested. And don't worry 'bout finding the way, pretty much everyone knows where the Puckermans live in this rotten town."

Blaine made a sound in acknowledgment, just wanting the guy to leave.

When he finally did, the boy didn't get left alone for more than a minute or so, before his phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Mhm?" he answered, voice a little irritated.

_"__Mr. Anderson?"_

"N –who is this?"

_"__I'm calling from the psychiatric emergency department." _

Blaine's heart stopped and his face fell.

_ "__You still there, Mr. Anderson?" _

"…Uhm, oh. Yeah. I'll be there in short."

As soon as he'd hung up, Blaine nothing but collapsed over one of the sinks, breathing heavily, head spinning.

Fuck. _Fuck! _

_Not again. Not now._

"Hey kid, I think you've got something that belongs to us?"

"W –what? N… no. I –swear… I didn't –didn't take anything fr–from you!"

Sheila gritted her teeth and lowered her body over the shivering girl.  
"I swear!" she screamed in panic.

"Just give us your damn money and we'll leave you alone." Santana muttered from behind her. The girl spun her head around and looked up at the Latino in sheer desperation.

"I –I don't have any!"

"Don't lie to us you little fucker!" Mackenzie snapped and Quinn quickly got her hand up to hinder the girl's knot fist from connecting with the shaking girl's face.

"Mackie. That's not necessary." she cooed.

_Again? Really? _Kurt rolled his eyes. _It's gonna get old soon, Quinny._

"Don't worry Kurt. Hadn't planned on doing anything."

"Stop reading my mind freak." Kurt mumbled and Quinn shot him an almost unnoticeable smile before turning her gaze back to the girl on the floor, who was now crying silently.

"Look." Her voice was calm, but yet threatening in a way only Quinn could manage. "Just –me and the gang here is in some desperate need of cash. So just give us what you have, I don't care if it's just a dollar, and we'll leave you alone."

"But I don't have anything!" the freshman cried. "I swear, I don't! I'll –I'll bring you tomorrow! Just… I don't have any–"

"Do you _want _to taste my fist that bad?"

"Mackenzie for fuck sake, just shut up will you?" Quinn raised her voice slightly.

"Thank you." she cleared her throat. "Now –I'm sorry, sweetie, but I'm not sure if I can keep her back for much longer."

"You're so m –mean!"

"Sure. But that has nothing to do with this." It was Kurt's time to speak this time.

"Come one, I'm hungry as fuck and the cafeteria food is shit, so just give us your money."

"I don't have any!" the girl jelled, eyes suddenly darkening with anger.

"Dirty fag." she hissed and Kurt chuckled bitterly.

"Oh now you've done it." Quinn informed sadly. "Sorry but I won't keep her away anymore." She backed away, no longer standing between the girl on the floor and Mackenzie.

Kurt walked out from the bathrooms, not caring to be there for the beating. She seemed too small and harmless for it to even be any fun. But she'd had the nerve to call him a 'dirty fag', so she wasn't _that _innocent.

Instead he made his way to the parking lot, an evil grin on his face.

Man, Kurt felt like fucking things up today.

"Oh no, you fucking don't!" Blaine's voice was angry, and stressed. He had to get to the hospital.

"Sorry, too late." Kurt Hummel said as he stood back up again, a pocketknife in his left hand and an evil smirk on his lips.

_He fucking smashed my tire! _Blaine gritted his teeth.

"You're so going to regret that." he hissed as he swung himself toward the abnormally thin male.

_Woha, déjà vu… _He thought just before he swung a fist aimed at Hummel's face, but apparently he was too slow and the other teen ducked, giving him a quite heavy punch to his stomach. Blaine gasped as he could feel the air leaving his lungs and tiny white dots appeared in his field of view.

"You _bitch_." he hissed.

Why did this have to happen today? Any other day would be fine. But just not today.

So of course it happened today.

He could hear Kurt chuckle just before he walked away and left Blaine halfway down at the ground.

_Shit. Shitshitshitshit!_

"Fuck!" he screamed and kicked at his now useless motorbike, swearing when it only made his foot ache.

"What's up?"

Blaine groaned.

_Give me a break already!_

"Fucking hell, you're really slow at taking in information, are you Puckerman?"

"No, look dude, I get it, I've been kind of a stalker." Blaine nodded with a little snort.

"You don't say." he muttered.

"But I just –I saw what Hummel did to your bike. And I just thought that maybe, ya' know, needed a ride home or something."

"I –no. I'm fine." Blaine mumbled.

"Right…"

"Or on second thought I –do need to get to the hospital."

"The hospital? Why?"

"No questions or I'll get there by myself."  
"Whatever. Car's over there." informed Puck and pointed at a red car not too far from where they stood.

The car ride was silent and pretty awkward, every attempt of conversation made by Puck immediately shut down by the other boy.

When they had finally reached their destination, Blaine was out of the car in the matter of a second, but before he walked away he turned back to the driver, eyes dark and face serious.

"Not a _word _to _anyone, _okay?"

"Ehm, sure dude, no problem."

The short teenager stood still until the red car was completely out of sight before he ran as fast as he could over to the psychiatric emergency entrance, tumbling to the reception.

"Can I help you Mister?" asked a dapper looking woman on the other side of the glass.

"Uh yes…" Blaine breathed. "Marcie –Marcie Anderson… I'm here to visit Marcie Anderson." he gripped the wooden desk and closed his eyes, trying desperately to catch his breath.

"You may sit down and wait for someone to come and get you." smiled the receptionist politely.

"Thank you."

When Blaine placed himself on an incredibly uncomfortable bench looking thing, he was still not able to breathe properly. And it wasn't from running those few meters between the car and the building, the boy had way better stamina than that, it was from that he knew what was ahead for him now. But he just didn't want to have to deal with it right now. Not ever, really, but especially not now.

"Mr. Anderson?" called a deep male voice and Blaine looked up.

"…Yeah." he groaned and stood up.  
"Right this way, please."

He got led through a greenish glass door and then down what seemed like an endless, gray, corridor before they reached a room with the number 142 on the door.

Blaine peeked inside the room through the tiny little window and sighed.

"Why? Why now?" he mumbled, thinking out loud.

"I guess you can't leave?" he asked the man behind him.

"No I'm afraid I can't. But I'll just be here in case something happens."  
"I know."

The hazel eyed bow ran a hand through his dark curls, sighed one last time and opened the door carefully.

"Hey…" he greeted, almost sounding a little shy.

"Are –" he stopped himself. Of course she wasn't alright if she was here.

"Mom…" Blaine whispered, already feeling his throat tightening.

"I'm afraid she can't place you in the state she's in right now." he could hear a soft voice tell him from behind.

"I know. I know." he mumbled.

"You've been through this before?"

"…Yeah." Blaine managed.

_But that doesn't make it any easier._

* * *

**So I'm kinda having a really shitty day so can't really come up with anything to say.. But as always, thank you for reading and hope you liked it. ^^**


	9. Chapter 9

"For how long will she be here this time?"

"It's impossible to say right now, but we'll let you know as soon as we know. And we'll call if there's anything else you need to know."

"Thank you."

"Will you be alright?" one of the nurses asked him worriedly.

"Don't you worry about me. Worry about her." he replied quietly and walked out of the tiny, white room.

Once the boy was outside, he remembered that he had no idea how to get back home. He could always walk, but that would take more than a while, and it wasn't really anything he'd chose to do.

But he didn't have a choice. So Blaine started the long walk back to his house, and about an hour later he was finally home, sweaty and tired.

Deciding to take a shower, he dragged himself up the stairs and into his room. He walked over to his wardrobe, stumbling over the thousands of books scattered all over the floor, just to fall when he had the luck to kick his toe into his bed. Swearing, he jumped on one leg the rest of the way and when he finally reached his built-into-the-wall closet, he sighed heavily and grabbed one of his white t-shirts and black jeans, this pair worn almost to pieces from being his favorites for years.

After closing the door to the bathroom behind him, not bothering locking it since he was alone in the big house, Blaine stripped down to his underwear before examining his body in the mirror.

Even though the boy was overall quite small for his age, he was still quite muscular and he personally thought that if people wouldn't know his actual 'size', they'd probably think he was the exact same height and everything as every average 18 year old.

After a second of hesitation, he turned around so his back was turned to the big bathroom mirror, and he could feel his hear sink and blood boil as always. He brought a hand up and numbly traced across the scar running across his shoulders and the higher part of his back. With a heavy sigh he yanked his underwear off too, tossed them on the pile he'd made of his other clothes, and took a few short steps before he stood with his body under the steaming hot water.

He let his curl-filled head fall backwards, enjoying the hot water flowing over his face and down his naked body for a few good minutes before taking the soap and shampoo from their stand and washing his body and hair.

Twenty minutes later and Blaine once again stood in front of the shiny mirror, now clean and shaved, a tiny towel draped around his waist. He was just about to walk back to his room, not really wanting to get dressed yet when it was so much more comfortable to just walk around with a towel, when he heard steps coming up the stairs.

He was just about to ask 'who's there?' when he remembered just how that always went in all the horror movies he'd seen through his life. And he didn't really feel like getting murdered today. Especially not while draping around in just a towel around his waist. That was no way to die.

"Blaine? You in here?"

"Where's your mother?" he asked, stepping out of the bathroom.

"Uhm…" mumbled the boy, looking at him with abnormally big eyes. "She's at work."

"Right." Blaine muttered, walking passed the much taller teen, _feeling _the lustful eyes looking at him from head to toe.

"Eyes to yourself, Smythe."

"Can you blame me for looking?" came a response, and he could hear the smirk in the boy's voice.

"Yeah, I can."

"Come on, Blaine, you're walking around in a towel barely covering _anything._ Can't blame a boy for having needs."

"Guess not. But not now. I need to eat something, didn't have time to eat at school. You brought the food or were your mind too filled with sex to remember?"

"It's downstairs, asshole. But you need to put on some clothes, or I won't give you any time to eat anything. Not any of the food at least." he could hear the brunette add with a smirk as he left the room.

Sebastian Smythe. He was… he was Sebastian. There wasn't really any way to explain him. The two of them shared a strange relationship, had done ever since the Smythes moved to town and became neighbours with the Andersons. His parents, mother firstly, were the kindest. The moment they'd found out about the situation with the woman next door, Blaine's mom, that is, they'd insisted on helping the now family of two as much as possible. Buying them food was one of the many things for example. It was mostly Blaine's money they used when they bought it, but working part-time in the Lima Bean as a high school student didn't really give you enough to live on, and the Smythes were more than willing to fill in the money needed for mother and son to survive.

Blaine had been more than uncomfortable with the agreement at first, having a at the time stranger clean the house and so on. He'd tried to work against it the first few months, putting even more effort into taking care of the house and his mother, but had soon realized that he could actually do with some help every now and then. And now Leila Smythe was almost like a second mother, even if that was something Blaine would never admit to anyone.

"Took you long enough."

"Well sorry, but I see no reason to rush."

"Stop teasing me, Anderson, I sort of really need you like, now."

"You 'sort of' really need me?" Blaine asked in an amused tone.

"I really, _really, _need you."

Blaine laughed, but didn't hurry up what he was doing at all, loving to tease his… whatever he was. 'Fuck buddy' was property the most appropriate term, he guessed.

"Desperate little boy whore." he chuckled as he swallowed the last mouth of the egg and bacon he'd made for himself, smirking at the hungry eyes the other boy had gave him during the whole process, which, of course, he'd dragged out as much as possible.

"Get your ass upstairs before I make you fuck me right here over the table." Sebastian muttered with a husky voice and Blaine rolled his eyes.

"It's been… what? One week?"

"Yes." the tall teen hissed as he practically tore Blaine's white t-shirt over his head. "One week. That's seven fucking days without any contact."

"Fine –guess you're right." mumbled the boy, his usually hazel orbs now almost black with lust.

They somehow made their way up the creaky stairs, touching and kissing every inch they could reach of the other. Blaine grabbed the tall teen by the collar of his ridiculously dapper polo, and pushed him up against the closed door to his room, attacking his mouth with his own.  
"I need you naked now." grumbled one of them, neither sure who, but it didn't matter, 'cause they both more than agreed.

"I'm so fucking _bored!_" Kurt groaned, hitting his head into the thin paper wall repeatedly.

"Shut up." mumbled Quinn from her side of the room.

"But I'm _bored." _

"Since when did you become such a fucking crybaby, Kurt?"

"Since you stopped coming with me to Scandals." he responded grumpily.

Quinn raised her eyebrows. "Thought you thought I was a pathetic fag-hag who needed to get a life and stop going to gay bars?"

"I do. But I still think it sucks going there alone."

"Nothing I can do about it."

"Yes there is –"

"I'm not drinking Kurt, I'm pregnant. So there's absolutely no way I'll come with you to a bar."

"But –"

_"__No." _Quinn said sternly in a 'this conversation is over' tone and Kurt just made a noise in disapprovement.

_This sucks._ _Why can't it just be Halloween today?_

Speaking of Halloween…

"You're at least coming to the Puckerman thingy on Halloween, right?"

"You serious?"

"Duh?"

"Have you forgotten what I just told you like two seconds ago?"

"But you won't have to drink there. I'm sure there'll sober people there if the _Glee Club_'s invited." he said sarcastically.

"Well while you're probably right about that, I don't really feel like spending the night with Berry, that stuttering Asian girl, the boy in the wheelchair and whoever, or _whatever,_ those others are."

"That doesn't sound like much fun, no." Kurt mumbled.

"By the way, Quinn… Does he know?"

"No." she answered, knowing exactly what he meant.

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Nope. There's no reason to. I don't need his help. Don't want my child to have anything to do with him."

"Right…"

Well, Kurt didn't really agree about that.

Not that he liked Puck or would ever even close to respect him after he left the Skanks just to be with some girl, but he sort of thought that he should know that he had made a girl pregnant. He could only imagine how it'd feel for him, not that he'd ever get yet to experience it.

But if Quinn wanted the fact that Noah was the father a secret, he guessed he couldn't do anything but keep it that way.

"Well," Sebastian hoisted himself up on his elbows, looking over at the boy beside him. "I need to go. Jeff and the others are waiting."

Blaine groaned. "You _still _hanging with those guys?"

"We go to the same school idiot."

"So?"

"So, I'm not really into the whole 'bad boy image' the way you are. Not for myself at least." he smirked.

"I like having people around." he added with a shrug and stood up. Blaine let his eyes wander over the male's body, unabashedly drinking in every inch of his existence.

"Don't look at me like that or I won't be able to leave."

"Then don't?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Now who's the needy one?"

"I'm not needy." he muttered childishly.

"Sure you're not."

He pulled his shirt over his head, Blaine watching in amusement as it came on backwards and him trying to turn it around back right again without having to take it off. After pulling his jeans back on, and after kissing the other boy for more than a few seconds again, he was out the door, leaving a naked Blaine in the ruffled bed. He was sweaty and gross again, and maybe he should take a shower again, but nah, never mind. He was alone so it didn't really matter that much.

So instead he just put his clothes back on, having to take a new shirt again since the last one was somewhere on the floor downstairs, and wandered through the house, having no idea what to do with the rest of the day. He'd already done all his homework, all subjects being ridiculously easy at McKinley, and he'd eaten and showered and it was just about six in the afternoon. So he couldn't go to bed yet for a couple of hours.

Of some reason he ended up in his mother's room.

_Stupid. Stupid Blaine for going in here now._

The room reeked with cigarette smoke, there were dirty clothes, thousands of emptied pill jars and even a few empty bottles that Blaine guessed had once been filled with some sort of alcohol, all over the dirty floor. He muttered under his breath as he saw the nightgown tossed over the old, black piano on the other side of the little dark room.

It had always been his mother dearest possession since he didn't know how long. But of course that had changed along with everything else. Now the monster of an instrument was just another piece of furniture, it seemed.

It made Blaine almost a little sad, to be honest.

Some of his happiest memories evolved around that piano. And to see it like that, it just sort of rubbed the whole situation in his face even more than the pill jars and damaged room, or even the holes in the walls that were his mother's most common 'victims' during her almost daily rages.

Without really thinking about it, Blaine walked over the room and ghosted his right hand over the black furniture, wiping away tons of dust at the movement, and before he knew it he sat on the little soft stool in front of it, tracing his fingers over the smooth ivory keys, but without pressing them down to make any sound.

He couldn't play. Not anymore. Not when everything was like this.

Blaine hadn't played the piano for soon to be five years, so he wasn't ever sure he remembered how to do it anymore. People said that playing the piano was like learning to ride a bicycle; that once you really learned how, you'd never forget it. But he didn't really believe that. Because as much as he tried, he couldn't remember which keys to press down in which order to make a specific melody, all he remembered was that he once knew how. Once he was actually really good. Once playing was his whole life.

But then everything had gone worse that to hell and he'd sort of forgot it.

* * *

**Sebastian.. Yeah, don't really know what happened there. It just sort of did I guess.. ^^ But yeah, really short chapter I know, sorry. :/**


	10. Chapter 10

_"__He's gorgeous!"_

_"__That guy's scary…"_

_"__He's a fag, guys, don't worry, he can't do anything."_

_"__Oh my god. I wish I was a guy. I love him."_

_"__He's so sexy!"_

_"__I hate him…"_

_"__How does he do it? I like fear him and love him at the same time…"_

_"__He's such an idiot, thinking he's so cool. Dumbass."_

_"__He's freaky. I'd stay away from him if I were you."_

Kurt was going insane. He was _so tired _of everyone talking about Anderson, which Kurt had started calling him; Frodo was getting a bit old. Everywhere he went, it was all the same.

Oh Blaine this and Oh Blaine that. Urgh.

He couldn't see where all the hype came from, really. All he saw was just a guy that was too short and had too curly hair. That was all. So why did he get so much attention?

Now, just to be clear, it wasn't the attention that Kurt was jealous of. He was pretty glad he _didn't _get that much attention all the time. It was just the way it was so easy for the other boy to… get people to know him. He'd just been at the school for about a month. Everybody knew he was gay. Everybody knew he was the size of a Hobbit.

But still everybody seemed to respect him in some strange way. Kurt guessed that it probably had something to do with his family name. Maybe his family owned some big company that he just didn't know about because he didn't care.

If that was the case, he would just have even more troubles tolerating that kid.

Anyways, Kurt couldn't be too grumpy. Because it was just about 24 hours until Halloween. Which was good. He'd looked forward to that day for too long. And maybe a little too much. Because this was Noah Puckerman's party. The fucking _Glee Club_ would be there, and probably a whole lot of other losers too. But he'd stayed sober for almost two long weeks now, and that was not acceptable in the world of Kurt Hummel.

So it didn't matter that he'd be in a house full of idiots, he would just have to ensure that he'd be too drunk to be able to acknowledge them.

"Hey." Quinn said, appearing by his side.

"Hey."

"You're weird today."

"I am?"  
"You seem happy."

"Oh."

"So, you gonna tell me why?"

"It's Halloween tomorrow." Kurt shrugged and Quinn held back a little laughter.

"You're looking forward to that thing way too much."

"I know."

"But if you weren't excited about free alcohol, you wouldn't be you." she smiled.

"Shut up." he muttered, rolling his eyes, trying not to smile.

"I meant that in the nicest way possible." she told him innocently and Kurt hit her a little playfully on her arm.

"D'you know who's gonna be there?"  
"No, not more than that everyone from Glee club will probably show up." Kurt muttered and Quinn made a grimace.

"I really don't feel like going…"

"Okay stop. You promised me to come. It was hard enough convincing you the first time, so please don't make me have to do it again."

"But –"

"No." Kurt shook his head. "You're coming with me."

"The rest of the Skanks will be there why –"

"You know I can't stand them."

"I know."

"So please just be a good girl and do as you're told for once?"

"I don't know…" Quinn mumbled, faking her inability to make a decision.

"Pretty please?"

"Okay, okay! Stop it with the begging, it's freaky."

"Thanks!"

Quinn's eyes widened as Kurt hugged her. Like, _he actually hugged her. Hugged. _

_What the hell?_

"Who are you and what have you done to Kurt Hummel?" she muttered, a smile tugging at her lips.

"So I can't be happy without you hatin' on me, eh? Tanks a fucking lot."

She shrugged nonchalantly, giggling on the inside.

"I hate you."

"Hate you too."

"You go anything planned for tonight?"

"No, not really actually. There's this one thing I've been 'invited' to, I guess. But I dunno, the guy who's throwing the thing is sort of a… dumbass, I guess it the right word."

"Then come hang with me and the boys?"

Blaine snorted. "Really?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Sorry, Sebastian, but I don't really feel like spending Halloween with the Dapper Dalton Boys."

"Why the hate on them all of a sudden? You didn't seem to have that much trouble with them before?"

"That's because I had to be nice to them 'cause of that freaking 'cero tolerance' thingy. But Dalton have no power over me anymore. I'm free from their shitty baby rules and I don't have to pretend to be some dapper-ass acapella boy anymore."

"Oh so now you're mocking the National show choir champions too? _What's gotten in to you?" _

"Grow up." Blaine grunted and pushed Sebastian off of the bed, laughing evilly as the boy hit the floor with a little 'umpf'.

"Honestly, come with us tonight. It'll be fun."

"Oh yeah? What're you gonna do that'll be so epic then?"

"I won't tell you. You'll have to come along if you wanna know…" Sebastian whispered, crawling back up on the ruffled bed.

"Don't give me those eyes, asshole."

"You know you want to…"

"Want to what? Hang with you tonight or fuck you again?"

The brunette smirked slyly.

"Hmm… Both." he coed in a husky voice and Blaine stifled a moan.

"You're really naughty today, Smythe."

"Don't blame me." Sebastian muttered, pretending to be offended. "It's your fault for being so damn sexy with your eyes and your hair and your abs and your… fucking everything…"

"Assho –oh god." Blaine whined as the other boy made his way up his chest, kissing and licking his tanned skin.

"Like I said… Naughty..." he breathed as he felt the taller male's hand travel higher and higher up his thigh.

"Come…"

"Don't be so hasty." the shorter mumbled with a tiny glint of a smirk.

"I meant, come with us." Sebastian murmured against Blaine's jawline.

"I don't know..." he managed, trying to keep himself from getting… too excited

"Fucking hell, Blaine, you're really stubborn aren't you?" Sebastian grumbled and sat up. Blaine shrugged, feeling a little cold at the loss of contact.

"Please? Please, please, plea–"

"That so won't work with me." Blaine shook his head. "All it does it turning me off to the idea even more."  
"Fine." Sebastian grabbed his phone from where it lay on the nightstand, checking the time.

"Call if you change your mind then?" he asked, suddenly standing up.

"I guess." he tilted his head. "Why're you leaving?"

"Need to go home and eat and stuff before I'm meeting up with the guys. And I'll have to shower too, I'm gross."

Blaine grinned. "Hm. Wonder why…"

"Call. You'll regret it if you don't."

"Sure."

When he knew that the Sebastian was out of the house, Blaine sat up and rubbed his face.

He already knew what he was going to do.

And it had nothing to do with either Sebastian or Noah Puckerman's 'party'. Not that it was anything epic he had in mind, he was just planning to stay home, actually.

Ever since his mother had been hospitalized, his sleep and stuff had been so messed up so he was completely exhausted. And Halloween was a night where everyone else was out somewhere else, so the neighborhood would hopefully be quiet for once.

After putting on a pair of sweat pants and a big comfy t-shirt, Blaine shuffled down stairs to make himself something to eat. Only his body didn't crave food, it craved sugar. So instead he just opened the fridge and plucked out a bucket of chocolate ice cream and made his way to the living room, crashing on the sofa. He turned on the TV and kicked his feet up on the low coffee table, eating the cold ice cream directly out of its bucket.

This was just what he'd needed, he decided when he'd somehow managed eating up all the chocolate ice cream and watched billions of TV programs he didn't even know anything about.

It had been ridiculously long since he'd just let himself relax and be a teenage boy, he hadn't really had the time to. So it was really nice now when he finally did.

It didn't take long before Blaine was passed out sleeping like a baby in the middle of the living room. Snoring and drooling, tossing and turning, looking pretty unattractive for once. But he was asleep. So things were good. Or better at least.

"Where _are _they?" Kurt groaned, hugging himself to protect him from the cold air. "They said they'd be here by now."

"Stop whining. There'll be here any minute."

"But –"

"_Shut up."_

"Fuck you. I'm inpatient, okay?"

"Oh, really?" Quinn rolled her eyes.

The two were standing outside their… house, waiting for Santana and Brittany to come and get them. They would've just taken their car, but it wasn't big enough for all seven of them, and the rest of the Skanks thought that they should all get there in the same ride, of some reason. Maybe it was kinda smart, since Quinn wouldn't drink and she got their in Santana's car, she would have to drive all of them home without even be able to protest. So it was a pretty smart move, he guessed.

"Finally." he groaned when he saw the black car appear down the street.

"Hey." Brittany beamed at them as her girlfriend backed the car up on the dead lawn outside the house.

"Took you guys long enough." Quinn mumbled as she closed the door and Kurt made a noise in agreement.

"Sorry. We sort of got stuck in… traffic." Santana mumbled from the driver's seat.

"Riight, traffic." Kurt smirked as he looked at their ruffled hair and the many hickeys all over Brittany's pale neck. "Damn that _traffic_ for making you late."

"Shut up Hummel."

"So, we're gonna pick up Sheila and Mackie too, right?" Kurt heard Ronnie's voice ask from behind him and spun around, a little more than surprised that she hadn't noticed her sitting in the car's big trunk.

"Yeah, don't worry." answered someone but Kurt wasn't entirely sure who it was.

"Woha. Place's packed already."

"Thank you, Mrs. Obvious." Santana muttered and grabbed hold of her girlfriend's hand, not wanting to lose her in the mess of already not sober teenagers.

Once they'd reached the inside of the big house, a huge spread over Kurt's face.

Finally.

It almost felt like he'd established something really big, like succeeded with inventing something really important or something. Now that wasn't the case, at all, but really, he didn't care. He would just let himself be childish and enjoy himself.

He didn't care that probably more than half of the people there hated him and wanted his head on a pole, he didn't care that all the hot guys were straight, he didn't care that he was in Noah Puckerman's house. He didn't care about anything. And it didn't take long before he was too drunk to even be able to care, even if he'd want to.

Blaine stirred to life and sat up in the sofa, getting a bit dizzy at the sudden movement. He looked around dazedly, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he let out a sigh in frustration.

_That it has to be so fucking hard to get some rest in this fucking neighborhood!_

He stood up carefully, knees creaking, and walked over to the window, trying to spot the source of the loud music.

_Of course there'd be someone throwing a spectacle somewhere near here._

What had he been thinking when he thought everyone would just fuck off to some other part of the town? That would never happen. Stupid boy.

Blaine stomped up the stairs, almost looking like a comic figure by the way he overdid every movement. He went to his room to put on the pair of jeans and the blood red t-shirt he'd wore earlier that day. When that was done he was out of his room and tore the bathroom door open, only to slam it shut behind him with a lot more force than needed. He walked over to the mirror and crabbed a comb, trying to get his hair back to look at least somewhat decent and after just a couple of minutes, he was standing outside the big white house. His leather jacket was zipped up almost to his chin and he looked pretty damned pissed.

Because he'd just been woken up after falling asleep on the living room couch. And that wasn't okay.

Blaine took a step toward the garage, only to stop himself when he remembered that his baby was still in for repair after that asshole Hummel had smashed his damn tires, and after leaving it in the parking lot over the night… it wasn't really nice looking once he'd arrived to school the next day, to say the least.

So instead he started walking in the direction which the sound came from, having no idea just how far it was.

But for once he was lucky, it only took him about five minutes to walk. But holy shit the music was loud. And there were a lot of people. Now Blaine was usually not the one having a hard time with a lot of people, or not loud music either, but this was almost ridiculous.

"Anderson!"

_Wait what?_

He turned around hesitantly, in case it wasn't him whoever it was meant.

"Dude! You came!" Okay, it was him they wanted to talk to.

"I –Yeah. Guess I did…" he muttered.

This was Puck's place? Well okay, this thing was bigger than he'd expected from a guy like him.

But he hadn't come to actually party, or whatever, he came to yell at them to turn down the fucking music. Just like a 70 year old, grumpy man would do.

But before he was able to, he got dragged into the big house, Puck having to elbow his way through the drunken crowd.

"What are you doing?"

_"__What?"_

_"__What are you doing?" _he jelled, trying to over voice the loud music.

Puck didn't answer. He just grinned and took a firm grip around the shorter's wrist and dragged him yet further into the crowd, almost making Blaine feel a little claustrophobic at the way everyone seemed to push back even harder against them once they'd been pushed aside for the two boy's to be able to reach their destination, whatever that was.

Suddenly he was sort of dragged and then pushed by a pair of sweaty hands so he stood in front of Puck, and he groaned when he saw just who he'd been lead to.

_Oh fucking hell. I should've known._

"What the fuck, Noah?" he hissed in the teen's ear and got a confused look in respond.

"What?"

"Why'd you bring me to _him_ of all people?"

"Aren't the two of you like, boyfriends or something?"

_"__What?"_ Blaine looked around, he was just about to say that. Who stole his line? Or word, more like it but still… Who was it?

"What, what? Why're you so angry?"

Blaine watched as Kurt's jaws clenched.

"Where'd you get the idea of us being –_boyfriends?" _he asked then, voice slightly slurred and hard to catch over the ridiculously loud thump-a-thumpa.

"Well… you're –both gay and sort of similar looking and –"

Blaine rolled his eyes and turned to the bigger teen with a smile on his face.

"When have you ever seen the two of us together?"

"I –uhm…"

"Exactly." he said matter-of-factly. "So now if you excuse me, I'm gonna go."

"Why?"

"Cause this sucks."

"Really, dude? This is the best thing ever." Blaine turned around at the sound of an unknown voice clearly talking to him, just to be forced to tilt his head more than a little big upwards to be able to see the other boy's face. Holy shit he was tall.

"I'm sorry, who the fuck're you?"

_"__Finn! Come back here!"_ a high-pitched, annoying sounding female voice called and the awkward looking boy, Finn, if he'd heard it right, shuffled away from him.

Shaking his head, Blaine turned around to leave, but halfway out, he of some reason decided to stay. Because he wouldn't be able to relax even if he tried once he was home, so he could just stay here instead. At least there was booze here that no one would notice missing if he took some, unlike how things were at home.

So he elbowed his way through the loud crowed once again, but this time he was alone at least, or you know, not alone, but not _accompanied_ by anyone. He got yelled at for pushing people numerous of times, but that happened everywhere where there were a lot of drunken teenagers, or adults too for that matter, in a small area.

He failed big time trying to find an empty seat of any sort, but then he reached the staircase with a sign 'Fuck off' attached to a string that was so thin and worthless looking he was surprised no one, seemingly, had disobeyed.

"It's gonna happen sooner or later." Blaine muttered to himself as he ducked under the lazily put up scheme and started to climb up the stairs.

Once he'd reached the top of the what for a moment felt like endless stairway, he was left with an option to enter four different rooms. A bathroom, guest room, Puck's room or the boy's parent's room, Blaine guessed.

Okay so…It would be sad to sit alone it the bathroom the entire evening, so that one was out. He would feel awkward in the parent's room, and he didn't really feel like he wanted to know what Puck's room looked like. Probably filled with posters of naked women, Blaine thought.

So the tired boy walked across the short hallway and opened the door to the guest room almost completely, expecting that it would be empty. So he got a little surprised when he was greeted by two half-naked, moaning girls. He recognized them from school immediately. They were two of the girls in the that gang that called themselves 'The Skanks', one of the many things he thought was ridiculous at his new school.

"Leave." grunted the slightly darker female, not even bother to look up from where she was kissing the other girl's stomach. Just a tiny bit shocked, Blaine closed the door behind him. He'd at least expected the two of them to yell at him and call him a perve or something, not just barely acknowledge him.

Not giving the hardly existing reaction any more thought, he walked over to what he almost knew was Noah's room, judging by the many signs and pictures decorating the wooden door. This time he opened the door a little more carefully, not wanting to interfere something else. But this room was empty, apart from the clothes and schoolbooks spread all over the floor.

He reached alongside the walls to try and find the light switch and once he'd found it and turned on the light he looked around the room.

It was almost ridiculous how the room followed just about every stereotype there was about football playing high school boys. It was blue. Really blue. There was a little shelf filled with trophies from won football games and an even smaller shelf filled with books about a meter away from it. The room was over all pretty damn dirty, used underwear and old pizza boxes placed at random places. And, of course, just as he'd though, there was a big poster of a woman bending over a shiny car, dressed in a barely existing bikini, trying to look sexy, but ending up just looking stupid according to Blaine.

He chuckled quietly and shook his head as he sat down on the boy's bed, the covers decorated with Star Wars figures.

_What a damn stereotype…_ He thought to himself and lay down on the surprisingly comfortable bed. He closed his eyes but was unable to even relax, the music still being disgustingly loud in his ears. But he was at least able to think a little bit, but had barely figured exactly what about before he heard the door squeaked open and he looked up. Blaine furrowed his eyebrows slightly when he saw Kurt standing there, cheeks tear stained, if he didn't get that wrong.

"Hi…"

"Hi."

* * *

**Yeah, obviously there'll be a new chapter tomorrow, aas always. :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**So, before you read the chapter, I just wanted to clarify that ****Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson are not brothers whatsoever in this fiction.**** There. ^^ Just wanted to make that clear since there's people both here and on S&C who got a little confused by the way I wrote things. So I'm sorry bout that and now when that's done, here's chapter 11. x**

**And shit, you need to put a disclaimer thingy on ever chapter, don't you? :s I've sort of forgot about that.. So yeah, as I'm sure you all know, I do not own Glee or any of the characters I use in this story. (Do you really need to write this? It feels so stupid...)**

* * *

The world was spinning just a little too much and he felt a little too lost. This wasn't just because of the alcohol, he could feel it.

There was some fuckery with his mind again.

_Why? _Why the fuck did this have to happen _now? Now _of all times when he was supposed to just don't give a shit about anything.

"Hey, Kurt, what's up?" Quinn asked worriedly from beside him.

"I… uhm…'m just feeling a little dizzy." he mumbled, having to giggle at his own voice. It sounded funny, okay?

"You should probably lie of the beer for a while…"

"No!" he cried, hardening the grip of his beer. "Don'!"

Quinn laughed at him and he furrowed his eyebrows slightly.

_Why's she laughing at me?_

"Kurt? Where're you going?"

"Ehm… Upstairs." he answered, wiggling his head around, making everything spin even more.

He stumbled through the warm house, trying desperately not to fall. _Everything _just spun around and nothing was still and it made him dizzy. Making out people, half naked girls dancing on different pieces of now ruined furniture, teenagers vomiting wherever, crying people that would feel really embarrassed if they knew what they were doing, a couple of lipstick-lesbians, dancing drunks and chaos. This was what happened around Kurt as he desperately tried to reach the staircase.

_Where's the damn thing? _

He couldn't _find _it. It was _gone_, like it'd just… fucked off to some other place. He kept walking, maybe falling a couple of times, he wasn't sure. And everything was blurred and fuzzy and warm and the music was loud and there were people everywhere and holy shit he was going to throw up.

"Move… Move, move, movemovemove…" he grunted desperately and all of a sudden he just found the stairs. All of a sudden they were juts _there_. But… he wasn't allowed to enter, said a sign.

_Fuck the rules. _He thought to himself and with a sigh he ripped the pathetic thread down and started to climb the stairs. Or tried to. Because these stairs wasn't normal. They couldn't be. 'Cause they like… wiggled and disappeared just when he was about to set down his foot and stuff and…

"Why're you –so… _mean?"_ Kurt slurred and hit one of the steps when he'd fallen and hit his knee. He tried to stand up again, only to fall and hit his head in the wall. Smooth.

"Fuck you, you fucking… stairrr…" he muttered. Was it normal to talk to a staircase? No? Well, Kurt thought it was. At least it that moment.

Not wanting to mess up again, Kurt decided to do a sort of crawl-walk up the rest of the stairs, which was still pretty hard too, and once he'd reached the top, a huge grin found its way to his face and he felt proud of himself... For succeeding climbing up a completely normal staircase…

He rushed into what looked like the bathroom, feeling his stomach starting to live its own life again, and barely had time to reach and open the toilet before the first mouth of already swallowed liquid made its way back up his throat. His body shook with cramps and tears started to swell up in his shut eyes. Fuck he hated throwing up. It made him feel so tiny and helpless. But what he hated even more was that he apparently couldn't just enjoy himself anymore without having to deal with his head trying to explode.

He hated that he even cared.

Because if this would to have happened a year ago, or even just a couple of months, he wouldn't have cared this much. None of it would've even happened in the first place.

Things were different. Maybe not much, but everything was certainly not as they used to. And fuck he hated that. Things had been better before, not easy, but easier. He'd been allowed to live without his mind constantly trying to remind him of shit that he didn't need to remember, which he really wasn't allowed to do now. Of course it had happened before a couple of times, the attacks, that was, but never this often.

And by saying 'before', it sounded like he was talking about a time many years ago, but weirdly enough; it was just a time about two months ago.

Things could really change, could they?

Kurt groaned. No. Things couldn't change. Change just fucked things up. And things never really changed. They just became slightly different. And while that might be the same thing for some people, to Kurt… it wasn't.

He sunk down to the floor, pulling his thin legs up to his chest, hugging himself. The floor vibrated from the loud music playing from downstairs, making everything feel… not real, somehow. The music, the people, the smell of vomit… Everything. It was a typical teenage party, but Kurt didn't feel like he fitted in. He wasn't a part of the normal crowd, not that he saw himself as special or anything, but he didn't belong there. As much as he loved partying, this wasn't… really his thing. Not at that moment at least. Yes, he was kinda sick of Scandals, at least sick of going there alone, but it was still the way he 'wanted things'. Not only 'cause it was a gay bar and that if he saw someone hot, he had more than a good chance with them. But it was just what he was used to. Or that was what Kurt though the reason was at least.

He somehow managed to zone out, and after a while, he had no idea how long, maybe just a couple of seconds, he 'woke up', somewhat lying down in an awkward position on the no longer cold floor. Kurt stood up, almost throwing up again at the way his stomach seemed to hate the movement, and walked out of the stinking bathroom. He opened the door located closest to him in the dark hallway, wanting to find a bed of some fucked up reason. But the room wasn't empty like he'd hoped for it to be, on the bed sat… someone. He couldn't see who, but there was someone there.

"Hi…" he uttered, hating that his voice came out as a whisper.

"Hi." answered the boy sitting on the bed, sending chills up his spine. He somehow knew exactly who it was on the other side of the room, just by hearing his voice saying one word, and of some even more fucked up reason, he didn't feel like he wanted to get out of there. Didn't feel like keeping himself as far away from the boy as possible.

He dragged himself across the room, feeling a little too sober for his liking, and sat down on the comfy bed as far away from the other teenager as possible.

"Well, well, been crying, Hummel?" Kurt heard him say, but he could also hear that the comment was only half-hearted; he didn't want to mock him in that moment.

Kurt groaned. This was so fucked up. How many times had that particular though run through his mind these last month? A lot, that's for sure.

Then he remembered what he'd heard and his eyes widened.

Crying? Him? No. That didn't happen.

He brought a slightly shaking hand up to his face, and almost let out a little gasp when he found his cheeks damp with what had to be tears.

When had that happened? And, why had it happened?

He hadn't cried, hadn't allowed himself to, in years. Except, if he was to believe what Quinn had told him, from during that extreme attack or whatever, but he hadn't had any control over the situation, so he didn't count that time.

But now? No.

"I haven't." he grumbled, going back to hugging his knees.

A couple of minutes of pretty awkward silence followed before Kurt spoke again. Why did he do that? He wasn't supposed to talk to him.

"What're you doing here, Anderson?" he asked, voice not as sharp as he'd wished for it to be.

"Why d'you care?"

Well, there went that conversation.

"…I came here to tell them to turn down the music." said the boy then, and Kurt almost smiled. _What was with him?_

"Well that went well. I can barely hear the music anymore." Kurt said with sarcasm, a smile tugging at his lips.

They kept talking about nothing in particular, almost like they were old friends, and Kurt felt more than weirded out. Because he didn't do thing like that. Maybe when he was totally shit-faced, but he wasn't now. And maybe with total strangers, but not with Anderson, who had somehow managed to fuck up his entire life without, barely, being in it. If that even made sense…

"Well… I'm gonna go." muttered the shorter after a while, and when he stood something suddenly shifted inside Kurt. He threw himself onto the curly haired male, shoving him into the door before he could open it.

_This isn't okay._

Blaine grunted when he hit the hard wooden door, not being prepared for the sudden hit from behind.

_Well, that change happen fast. _Only seconds ago they'd sat on the bed, talking, and now Kurt was pressing him up against the door, looking at him with gritted teeth and eyes filled with hatred.

"What…the fuck Hummel?" he managed, trying to push the taller off of him, but to no use. He really was stronger than he looked.

"You…" Kurt hissed, his voice so raspy and… dangerous, almost. It sent chills down Blaine's spine.

"What the fuck're you –Kurt. Let me go." he tried to calm himself, finding himself a little freaked out by the look the other boy gave him.

"You…" the pink haired boy repeated. "You stay the fuck away from me. Got that?" he was breathing heavily, pressing Blaine harder and harder up against the uncomfortable door for every second that passed.

"Yea –No. No. You can't order me around. I know you've got some weird issues with me, where the fuck the come from I don't know, but you can't just tell me to fuck off whenever you don't feel like having me around. It doesn't work that way."

Kurt seemed almost taken aback for a second by the way Blaine had so suddenly changed, and he took that in advantage, finally managing to push Kurt away from him. Blaine straightened out his jacket, watching Kurt taking a stand that told him he wanted to fight.

"I –would you just stop this? Honestly, I don't care if we never speak again, but then you need to leave me alone too. Not sort of talk to me and then totally backfire the whole situation, suddenly having the need to beat me up. 'Cause I'm pretty damn sick of it. And it doesn't help anyone. So why're you doin' this?"

Blaine was more than surprised by the words coming out of his mouth. Where did they come from? And maybe they made things sound almost a little worse than they were, but that wasn't what troubled Blaine. What troubled him was that he was so able to control his temper in that moment.

"What do you get out of it? Does it make your parents proud?" He barely had the time to finish the sentence before Kurt flung himself towards him, a furious growl escaping his lips.

Wow. What had happened there? He'd really hit a nerve there. But why? Did the boy have troubles with his family? Did they fight a lot or something? That would explain a lot of things at least. He didn't have much time to think of it any further, soon being busy with avoiding hits aimed all over his body. It was like he's somehow sent the other male over the edge with his words. But this wasn't normal. One who just had troubles at home didn't react this way at the mention of it. Something was a little bit more than off. And deep down a desire to get to know exactly what that was came to life, but at the moment being, Blaine barely noticed it.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, not meaning for the words to come out his mouth. But the harm was already done. Kurt was furious, a little more so than he should be, and when his fist flew across the air amid at his stomach, Blaine wasn't able to react quick enough to hinder it. He groaned quietly as the air seeped out his lungs and he was done. He wouldn't let Kurt treat him like that. He hadn't done anything wrong. So he knot his own fists and swung at the other's face, but just the second before he hit, his hand stopped listening to him and opened up, resulting in him giving Kurt just a really hard bitch-slap over his face.

"I'm sorry." Blaine mumbled.

_What? What the fuck? I'm sorry? Really? No! Stop it Blaine, fucking stop it!_

"You… How're you doing this to me?" whispered Kurt, grabbing his hair furiously.

"What?"

_Doing what?_

"You're… why?"

"I think it's time for you to tell me what the hell's goin' on with you…" Blaine said, slowly walking over to the bed, hands lifted up to the height of his chest as to show that he didn't want to fight.

"I don' need to tell you anything." Kurt spat and made a move to leave.

Something had shifted inside of Blaine, he wasn't sure what and he wasn't sure why, and it was most certainly not something that he liked. But at that moment he couldn't do anything about it, instead he just stood up and walked over to the door and quickly placed his body between it and Kurt.

"Get away from the door, Anderson." he warned between gritted teeth, not looking at him.

"No." Blaine said calmly.

_Where is all this coming from? Why do I care what he does or how he treats me? What the fuck Blaine?_

"What is it, hm? What is it about me that's so horrible? I know some people fear me or don't like me or whatever 'cause I wear a leather jacket and ride a motorcycle, but I know that's not the case here." he pointed a finger between the two of them.

"So what is it? Are you jealous of me or something?"

Kurt chuckled evilly, still not meeting his gaze.

"Jealous of you? Seriously?"

"I don't know." Blaine shrugged. "I have no idea, so just tell me and I won't have to guess."

"I don't have to tell you anything." Kurt repeated and Blaine sighed.

"You're right. You don't. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't."

Not having the energy, and not caring enough, Blaine went back to the bed, expecting Kurt to just leave and slam the door shut behind him as he went, but the thin boy just stood where he'd been left, not moving a muscle.

_Whatever. I don't have to care about him. He doesn't want me to. And I don't either._

"I…" Blaine heard Kurt breath, back still turned to him. "I can't."

"You can't?" What did that mean?

"I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"I don't know you. I can't tell you."

Well. He _was_ right about that. Even though it had sort of felt like they had a couple of minutes ago.

"You're right." Blaine nodded. "So stop being so damn angry with me all the time."

Was he pleading? Was Blaine actually asking someone to stop treating him a certain way?

Kurt was silent for a couple of seconds, Blaine watching his thin shoulders as they rose and sunk at every breath.

"What?" he asked when the boy mumbled something he couldn't catch.

"It's not your fault…" he whispered quietly, almost still too quiet for Blaine to hear him.

"What not my fault?"

"That I'm… acting like this."

"Right… Then what is?"

Kurt sighed heavily. He needed to get out of there. It was dangerous for him to stay. Really dangerous. But he couldn't bring himself to leave, couldn't really control his body to move at all. So he just stood there, back turned against the boy on the bed. That boy who had just… fucked everything up.

And they didn't even know each other, Kurt had said so himself. But it was still something that made it feel like they did, something that made it feel like they weren't almost complete strangers.

"Why're you having so much trouble with me?"

_Shut up. Shut up. Shutupshutupshutup! I can't take this! Just leave me alone!_

"I'm not stopping you from leaving, so just go if that's what you want."

Kurt groaned. Had he been thinking out loud again? Fuck, he needing to stop doing that.

"Kurt, look. I know that there's more to you than what meets the eye. It's the same with me… So just –there's no reason for behaving like an asshole to me. Not all the time at least. I know I deserve it sometimes, but not all the time. And I'm not saying that I want for us to be besties forever now or something, I'm not even saying that we have to get to know each other, I'm just sayin' that there's no need for you to shit on my day every time you feel like it."

Kurt chuckled and shook his head slowly.

"Wow. I'm sorry. I didn't realize that you were a Saint. I'm so sorry." he said, voice reeking with sarcasm.

"Okay." Kurt could hear the other chuckle too, which made him angry to no end. "I get it. Now just fuck off. You've made your point."

Kurt lifted his hand to the door handle, but didn't open it. He just let it rest on the cold metal, feeling it getting warmer and warmer under his palm for every second.

He was at war. At war with his own mind.

A part of him, most certainly the part who hated him the most, wanted him to tell Blaine about… stuff. Wanted him to tell him that it wasn't really Blaine's fault, that it was just that he had… issues with his… appearance.

But there was no way he would to that. No way he'd put himself in that kind of vulnerable place on purpose with a guy like him. It was hard enough to talk to Quinn, and she was the person closest to him, the only one close to him at all, really, so he wouldn't be able to do the same thing with Anderson.

But… What… Fuck… Why was he so dizzy all of a sudden?

"Hummel? Woah, what the –? What's goin' on?" Blaine's voice became a little higher as he watched the teen's body starting to shake before falling to the floor.

"Kurt! Hey, what the hell's happening to you?"

"Noooo!" the body crawled up on the floor jelled with a voice so raspy and full of pain, and shit, he'd seen that happen before. And it hadn't been a good sign then, so it sure as hell wasn't now.

_"No! NO!"_

_ "Sir! Sir, please, calm down –"_

_ "Shut up! SHUT UP! There's –there's…!"_

_ "You need to come with us. If you could just –"_

_ "Get away from me! Stop it! No! Get away–!"_

Blaine shivered a little at the memory of what had happened next, and at the look on the unknown man's face by the psychiatric emergency reception. He hadn't got any explanation to what and why it'd happened, he didn't know the man so it he hadn't expected to, but judging by where he was and by the way he acted, he had been everything but right in his mind.

When Kurt turned around to face Blaine again, the look on his face was almost identical. And, frankly, it scared him a little.

_This isn't good. What should it do?_

He had dealt with people that weren't… completely healthy before, having had to take care of his mother since he was around thirteen years of age. But that was his mother. This wasn't. And this didn't happen to his mother, not while she was home at least.

And the panic, anger and pain in the pale boy's face and voice all somehow seemed directed directly at him. Like he was the cause of what was happening.

"Kurt…" he whispered, voice breaking.

"No! Stop it! Stop it! _Stop it!" _he screamed, pulling at his dyed hair with bony hands. Blaine wasn't entirely sure if what the boy was jelling was directed toward him or… someone else. Or something else. He didn't know much in that situation and if he'd had any control of the situation at all, he wouldn't have chosen to carefully walking over to the boy, now almost in tears, and trying and calm him down from a smaller distance.

"What's… happening?" he asked desperately, feeling his heart almost breaking out of its ribcage.

"Don't –touch… me…" breathed the boy, but Blaine didn't listen, of some reason. He took a firm grip around both Kurt's wrist and even though Blaine was pretty strong, he had to use quite a lot of force to be able to hold them down. Maybe the action seemed unnecessary to people not involved in the situation, but to Blaine it did. He didn't really feel like getting hit. Especially not now when Kurt seemed a thousand times stronger than he usually did, probably being a part of the anger he felt, Blaine guessed.

"Kurt. You need to breath." he said, trying to keep his voice calm, succeeding better than he'd hoped.

"Don't! Don't tell me… what to _do!" _Kurt screamed back, trying to jerk his way out of Blaine's firm grip, but to no use.

"What are you doing? Ow. No. Please don't –" Blaine bit back a sound in pain as Kurt dug his teeth into his hand, trying to force him to let go.

"Fuck… That fucking hurts, cut it out." he groaned, knowing there was no one listening. He bit his tongue and clenched his jaws when he felt the teeth break through his skin.

_That really hurt a lot more that it seems like in the movies. _Blaine thought to himself bitterly, still refusing to let go of Kurt's hands.

"It's not going to work Kurt." he informed, but his voice wasn't as calm as before, and he hoped that he wouldn't hear the pain in his voice. Because fuck his hand hurt.

But his 'strategy' worked, after only a few more seconds, Kurt stopped trying to chew his hand off. He was just about to let out a sigh in relief when pain struck trough his head like he'd just been hit by a baseball bat, and he knew how that felt all too well. But it hadn't been a baseball bat, but Kurt's head smashed against his own.

"I'm not letting you go." he said once he'd recovered from the dizziness accompanying the hit to his head.

_Why am I even doing this?_

"You… You…" Kurt's voice was so thin it almost caused Blaine to let go of him… He didn't, he did something else. He pulled the taller boy into a hug.

_What? What the fuck is wrong with me?_

This was even less appreciated by the pink haired boy, but after about a minute of struggling, his body went still. Almost a little too still for a moment and Blaine almost got scared he'd passed out. But then he felt Kurt shifting in his embrace, but not to try and get rid of him, but to be able to put his arms around him as well.

The curly haired boy widened his eyes slightly at the gesture, but then felt a sort of comfort from the other boy's touch.

_This is… so fucked up…_ He thought with a sigh.

"No." he could hear Kurt whisper suddenly.

"No. Stop." Kurt flinched violently like he'd been burnt by fire and Blaine quickly removed his hands from the boy's back without thinking.

"What's wrong?" he asked, eyebrows lightly furrowed.

"Stop." he said again, almost sounding desperate.

"Kurt, what's –"

"Shut up." he hissed. "Shut. up."

"Stop it." he could hear the pale boy repeat again and again from where he'd started to pull at his short hair again.

"Stop what?"

"Stop it!" suddenly his voice was louder and as he stood up, a tear found its way from Kurt's cyan eyes and fell down onto the floor.

"Stop reminding me of all I've lost!" he jelled before storming out of the room, leaving a confused Blaine sitting on the wooden floor.

_What the hell just happened?_

* * *

**I love writing Kurt's craziness. ^^ And thank youuu all for being amazing. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Yeah, I forgot to upload a chapter yesterday, sorreh**

* * *

"Quinn."

"Hm?"

"We're going home. Now."

"Okay…?" Quinn looked at Kurt with a slightly confused look on her face.

"Let's find Santana and the others first–"

"Fuck them." he groaned and pulled Quinn up by her left wrist.

"It's Santana's car, Kurt–"

"Fuck. Them." he just repeated, a little clearer this time.

"Hey chill, what's your problem all of a sudden?"

"Just get in the car." the tall boy demanded and giving him a weird look, Quinn did as she was told.

"What's up?" she asked, a little hesitantly, but got no answer. When they had to stop the car at a red light, Quinn looked over to the person sitting beside her in the old pick-up. He was trembling, hands knot into fists at his side, jaws clenching in anger.

"Hey…" she whispered. "What –happened?"

"Can we talk later? I –"

"Yeah." Quinn nodded. "No problem."

Driving home didn't take long, and about fifteen or so minutes later Kurt was seated on the 'kitchen' floor, a plastic cup of water in his hands.

"What's going on Kurt?" she asked again, leaning against the low sink.

"I…" she watched as the taller's jaws started to clench again and that _look_ coming back to his face and she held back a sigh. As much as she cared for Kurt, she really didn't have the energy tonight.

"Don't worry." he said quietly, looking up at his friend. "Go to sleep instead, Quinn. You look like you need it."

"No, tell me –"

"Quinn. I can see that you don't have the energy to do this now. So just go to bed."

"I –"

"Go."

"Fine."

The girl gave up, since Kurt was right, and dragged herself into the bathroom. She took a quick shower, since showering in cold water wasn't really anything she appreciated, then dried her body jerking with the shirt she'd been wearing.

Her belly was still flat, since she'd only been pregnant for about a month or so, but Quinn still felt fat. Not in a 'oh my god I need to loose ten pounds to be able to go outside' sort of way, she'd always been a little underweight. This was more like … it was hard to describe but, sort of like it was harder to move. Like she'd gained a ton during the past month. Of course this was only imagination, but it didn't make it any less real to Quinn.

She was a little scared, if she was to be honest. And no one could blame her for it; she was eighteen. She lived under one of the worst circumcised for a teenager in a first world country, and she… She'd never really had a mother. So she didn't know too much about how to take care of a baby. She did know some, of course, but she'd probably known a little more and better if she hadn't grown up without a motherly figure to look up to.

Examining her face in the cracked mirror, Quinn let out a heavy, tired sigh.

"Okay." she whispered to herself. "Stop this. You can do it. There's nothing to worry about."

After draping the wet shirt over the holder that should hold a shower curtain, the tired girl walked out of the little room, glancing at Kurt as she passed him, who was now lying in a fetal position on the floor. She dragged her body to her mattress, sliding her naked body in under the thin blanket. But sleep was pretty much completely out of the question, at least for a couple of long hours, her hair was still a little damp from the quick shower and the room was already cold as it was.

_We really need to get some real blankets to this place this year. I don't think it'll be too good for the baby if I lie awake freezing all winter…_

As Quinn left to the bathroom, Kurt sunk down to the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging himself in an attempt to close out the cold.

_Fucking hell. It's just October, or the first of November, and it's already this damn cold in here. Such a lovely winter it seems to be this year._

He heard the shower being turned on and a little shriek from Quinn as her body came in contact with the, what had to be, freezing water. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes.

_"__I think Blaine is a beautiful name for a boy. And… Wendy if it's a girl…"_

Kurt sat up in the blink of a second, eyes wide as porcelain plates and heart hammering hard in his chest.

_Fuck! _Fuck, not this again! This wasn't supposed to happen! That's why he had gotten out of that place as quickly as possible so he wouldn't have to deal with this shit!

_"__Kurt, honey, you know how me and daddy told you you were going to have a baby brother or sister? Well… Things didn't exactly go as planned."_

He was done. He didn't want to anymore. He didn't want to relive his life in his head again. Nothing that had already happened to him years back in time mattered now. None of it. So there was no point thinking of it. It only made things hurt worse than they needed to.

"Heey, a'know you. You're tha Frodoo guy Kurt's always glrring at at s–chool!" a girl Blaine remembered as Santana, the one he'd seen practically having sex with her girlfriend not too long ago, beamed at him from the door.

"Uh, yeah, I guess?"

"Well –what's the problem b'tween you two?" she asked, wiggling across the room, settling down on the bed, telling her tired looking girlfriend to lie down and rest for a while.

"I don't know." Blaine shrugged from where he was still sitting in the floor.

"C'mon… What'd you do? There'as to be _something. _Gay boy doesn't act like tha' wiout a reeeason."

"I dunno what's up with him. So don't ask me." he muttered. "And you know what? You should probably go to sleep you too for a while, and maybe we can talk later."

"You're –_sober?" _

"Uhm, yeah. Seems like it."

"Well you're bor'ng. 'night."

Blaine shook his head, and after a moment he realized what the girl had said. He was still sober. Well that was another thing right there that wasn't planned. Hell, nothing that had happened the past hours had been anywhere near planned.

Should he go back downstairs to get something that would help him clear his mind? Nah. It wasn't worth it. But still, what was he supposed to _do_ there?

Deciding that he would just try to keep on not giving a shit, Blaine lay down on the floor closing his eyes, the bed being occupied with lesbians. The music was still playing as loud as ever a floor down and when Blaine placed the side of his head down directly onto the floor, he could feel it vibrating to the quick beat.

_Puckerman does know how to throw a good spectacle, I give him that. _He thought to himself and closed his eyes, not to sleep, but to think. Not giving a shit really was something that Blaine had a lot troubles doing.

_That Hummel guy… Oh, who am I kidding? Kurt. What's up with him?_

His mind went back in time.

_"__Stop reminding me of all I've lost!" _

What had he _meant _by that? Blaine couldn't understand. What had he lost that affected him like _that?_ That made him… well, almost a little crazy, actually, what could it be?

A painful break up? No. That was ridiculous. Not just because the blue eyed boy obviously didn't do romance, but because the breakdown Blaine had witnessed a while ago was way too serious for that.

Loss of family member?…Maybe. He didn't know Kurt well enough to know if that could be it or not.

He sighed. He had to stop _caring! _It wasn't like him. Not like this at least. He'd always been very fond of his mother, and of his former close friends as well. Maybe he even of Sebastian. At least a little. But those were all people who had been in his life for quite a while, that he _knew. _That made sense.

But almost caring for a guy that drove him completely crazy half of the time and that he didn't really know, _that _made no sense _at all. _Almost a little creepy, maybe, that he gave so much thought to what had happened in Kurt's life and so on.

_Why do I _care _so much?_

_"__What do you mean, mommy? Is the baby dead?"_

_"__Oh, no. No worries. But, it's… it's twins." his mother smiled at him kindly and he tilted his head slightly._

_"__What's twins?" he asked, nipping on his ear with a little hand._

_"__It's when two babies live inside mommy's tummy instead of one." she explained kindly to her son._

_"__You have _two _babies living inside you?"_

_"__Yeah."_

_"__Wooow…" he mumbled in astonishment and his parents laughed quietly._

_"__Yuck, don't to that, that's gross!" the little boy whined when his parents shared a quick kiss, causing them to laugh again._

_Still nipping his ear, Kurt looked at his mother's growing belly._

_I'm gonna be a big brother!_ _He thought with a proud smile._

Kurt snapped back to reality and looked around him in panic, making sure no one saw him. Once he found himself in the little bathroom in his and Quinn's apartment, he let out a little sigh.

Fucking hell he was so damn tired of this. He didn't want to know or think of anything that had happened to him in his past. He didn't need it. It had nothing to do with the person he was today.

But yet, if it didn't affect him, why was he so determent _not _to remember?

Because then it would. If he let his guard down, if he let his mind control his life instead of he, himself, then everything would fall.

Then everything would be too late and he wouldn't be able to control himself. Then he wouldn't survive.

"Britt wake up." Blaine heard Santana mumble softly to her girlfriend and he sat back up, too. If Blaine wasn't wrong, it had only about half an hour or so, but it certainly didn't feel like it from the way his back screamed.

"What happened? Did the world end?" he heard another, slightly higher voice say in confusion, and Blaine realized that that was the first time he heard… Brittany's, if he wasn't wrong, voice.

"No don't worry."

"Hey, Frodo."

"Blaine."

"Hm?"

"Name's Blaine."

"No." Santana said, almost matter-of-factly. "Your name's Frodo."

"Whatever." he muttered, rolling his eyes to himself. What was it with the McKinley kids and the Lord of the Rings?

"Hey, Frodo." the Latino repeated, and all Blaine could think of was 'The Annoying Orange' from YouTube.

"What?"

"What're you doin' here?"

"I… Don't know. Just happened to stop by."

"Right. Well, see ya'round I guess."

Blaine just nodded and made a grunt in acknowledgement, not looking as the two girls left the room.

The music wasn't nearly as loud anymore, Blaine noticed, in fact he couldn't hear it at all. He stood up, getting a little dizzy from moving too quick, and dragged himself over to the little nightstand, sitting down on the bed for what felt like the hundredth time. Looking for some kind of watch to tell him the time, his phone being dead, Blaine somehow managed to knock down the reading lamp. To his defense, it had been placed way too close to the edge, so Blaine didn't really take any blame in the incident. There was no watch, however, just countless school papers and sport magazines.

"Well fuck my life." he grunted, standing up and walking out of the almost too blue room.

It was earlier than he'd expected it to be, that's for sure. The kitchen watch had been knocked down so he didn't know the exact time, but the sun had started rising and was now almost all the way up.

But the first thought that reached his mind when he reached the end of the stairs was _'wow' _and the _'chaos'_.

Yup. It was pretty chaotic. Not that there was anyone really awake anymore, everyone had left or were now spread out on random places, passed out or just sleeping. Some places a litte more… wierd than others. There was one girl, for example, a short brunette wearing ridiculous clothes, passed out with her face in a huge flowerpot standing in the floor, and from the look at she'd… chewed on the little tree planted in it.

_Well she'll feel embarrassed when she wakes up. _Blaine though with a little smile, shaking his head.

There were way more topless girls in the house for Blaine to be comfortable and quite a few poor people that had vomit in their hair and all over their clothes. He looked in surprise when he saw an empty wheelchair standing in a corner, a little boy with thin legs lying with his body over a gold haired girl that he actually knew was named Sugar.

He saw Puck passed out shirtless over a girl he'd never seen before, and he had to stop for a second to admire that guy's abs. Because those were… not what he'd expected, to say the least. Making a grimace when he looked down to find his right shoe in a nice little puddle of vomit, Blaine almost fell from where he'd made the decision to wipe it off on a passed out Asian, who already had his shirt covered in… not very nice looking things, when he heard an angry scream from outside.

"That fucker drove away in my fucking car!" Blaine heard Santana scream and a few heads snapped up at the sudden sound.

He walked the last few steps through the living room, passing a giggling girl who seemed to be the only one still awake, and hissed when the sun hit his eyes, it hurt. And he wasn't even hung over, so he shouldn't be complaining.

"You." she said, spinning around and pointed a slender finger at Blaine, who lifted his hands up to his shoulders of instinct.

"What?"

"D'you have a car?"

"No?" he groaned, stretching out his very sore back.

_Did I fall asleep on the floor _sober_?_

"Fuck!" she stomped her booted foot in the ground. "Fuck!"

"What's the matter?" he asked after watching her swear and punch the air for a couple of seconds, mostly to just shut her up.

"That fucker drove off in my fucking car!"

"…Right?" Blaine scratched the back of his neck. "How far do you guys have home?"

"I'm not goin' home. I'm gonna get my damn car back before I go anywhere."

"Okay. So where is it?"

_Why am I doing this _again_?_

"At Hummel and Fabray's place. It's like forever to walk there."

"I could –I live like five minutes away from here. I could borrow my mom's car. She doesn't mind."

Santana stopped in the middle of another stomp and looked at him like he was an alien.

"What?"

_Exactly, what the fuck? _

"Sure, that'd be awesome." she said then, standing back up properly. "But you'd have to come along so the car can come back to your place and stuff."

After agreeing on the girls staying there, apparently having to find a few more people that should've been driven him in Santana's car; Blaine started a slow walk home again. To get his mother's car so he could help our Santana. Who he didn't know. Whose car was at Hummel and Fabray's place. He had no idea who this Fabray was, he just knew he'd head the name before, but he knew far too well who Hummel was.

And what the fuck was he even doing?

It didn't matter how many times he thought that, because suddenly he was back at Puck's place again, the lawn and trees in it beautifully decorated with toilet paper and something that looked like… spaghetti…

"Okay so thank you I guess." Santana grumbled when she and her girlfriend hoped into the front seat, Brittany placing herself in the Latino's lap without a question. When he started the car again, the rest of the 'Skanks' sitting in the back seat, reeking with alcohol and vomit and god knows what, he realized that he had no idea where he was going.

"Turn left here, then left again." Santana informed quietly, not looking at him and Blaine nodded and did as he was told. She continued guiding him the whole way there and when they entered the shaggiest neighborhood in town, Blaine's brain started working at way too quick of a phase.

_This is where he lives? Why is he living here? What happened? Is his family that poor? Well I guess that explains his clothes… But still, really?_

Blaine clenched his jaws as he tried to force the thoughts out of his head. They shouldn't _be _there. They shouldn't exist. But yet they did, and it pissed him off.

"There." she said and pointed, but she wouldn't have had to. Because the big black car sort of stood out a lot from the environment.

He slowed down and stopped just outside a little… house, he guessed. But it was so run down and just… damaged, he doubted anyone could even live there. There were two windows, one taped closed with duct tape and someone had put up to half rotten planks over the other carelessly. On the little drive way looking thing stood the old weirdly multicolored pick-up that he'd seen at school a couple of times and on the dead and muddy lawn stood Santana's big Volvo. It really didn't belong there. Not that it was anything particular, it was quite a normal car, but in that neighborhood it looked really… expensive and special and stuff.  
"That idiot's gonna get it now." Santana muttered and Blaine snapped back a little to reality, and of some reason he stepped out of the car with the rest of the girls.

"Hey, Quinn!" she jelled, stomping towards the door, which looked like it'd fall from its hinges if Blaine did as much as touch it. "I know you're in there and I know you hear me so come out here so I can slap your pretty face!"

Quinn. Oh, so that's who Fabray was. But why did Kurt live with her? And why here?

"Sure go ahead, wake up all of Ohio, go ahead." Quinn muttered as he slender body appeared in the door opening.

"I thought we agreed on you driving my car so you could get me and the girls home?" Santana said through gritted teeth.

"I –yeah. But Kurt –"

"Fuck Kurt! You drove away with _my_ car when you know I live on the other side of town!"

"Kurt freaked out again so I drove him home. And if you had been a little smarter you would've kept your keys instead of leaving them with me. So stop your fucking complying." Quinn yawned and ran a hand through her pink hair, looking more than a little bored.

"You know I would've lost the keys if I kept them."  
"I know." she nodded.

"But you drove off in my car and if it wasn't for Frodo here," She pointed at Blaine, who almost felt a little awkward. "I'd be forced to _walk _here to get it back."

Quinn turned her attention to the short boy and raised a thin eyebrow.

"What're you doin' helping Santana?"

He shrugged. "Just thought I'd do something nice, you know, it's good to do that every now and then." he smiled at her sweetly.

"Good for you." she said, smiling herself. "Hope you didn't ruin someone's life this time too?"

"Oh no, I don't think so." Blaine turned to the three girls, two pretty short and big, one of them a lot darker than the others, and the third both much thinner and taller than the other two, who stood practically sleeping just by the car they'd arrived in.

"So don't worry. And saying I ruined your life is going a little overboard, isn't it?"

"Wait –you –?"

"Don't worry about that, San." Quinn said, shooting a last bitch look towards Blaine. "And here's your keys. You can go home now."

She tossed the car keys to Santana and closed the door. The Latino turned around with a shrug, apparently forgetting that she was supposed to 'slap Quinn's pretty face', and grabbed her girlfriends hand, starting to walk to her car. But just as she was about the close the car door, she turned to Blaine.

"You have anything planned for today?"

"…What?"

"Do you have any plans? Are you doing anything today or are you just going home to be boring?"

"No I guess I don't, and I guess I am. But why d'you care?" he asked, eyebrows sitting high on his forehead.

"Me an' the girls are going swimming, thought if you wanted to come?"

_What? Swimming? In November? Where? Me? What?_

"Okay?" he said, but made it sound like a question.

"'Okay?' Maybe I shouldn't have asked, you seem boring."

"No, I'll come." Blaine said, not really knowing what he was doing.

"Awesome. Just follow my car?"

"Actually… Mine is almost entirely out of gas, so would it fit in yours?"

"…Sure."

Not really having any idea whatsoever of what was going on, Blaine drove his mother's old, not ever used anymore, vehicle and after fighting with the garage door for a minute he locked it behind him, hoping into the waiting car, having to sit in the trunk.

His brain must've been somewhere else that day, because otherwise he'd never agree to do something like this. Not because it was 'adventurous' or whatever, going swimming didn't really sound that dramatic, but because his mother was in the hospital and he didn't have a cellphone on him, not one with charged batteries at least. He wouldn't have done it because he was tired as hell and wanted nothing more than to sleep. Because he hardly knew them, even though that wasn't that big of a deal when he thought about it, and because he was now going to spend the day with five teenage girls. Hung over teenage girls.

Jippey. But still, he didn't really have anything else to do and he'd probably be unable to sleep anyways. So fuck it.

"Let's go then!" Santana cried, a little over-dramatically, Blaine thought, and drove off to he had no idea where.

* * *

**Chapter 13'll be up tomorrow and then you'll be caught up with S&C (y) **


	13. Chapter 13

**And once again there's a comment I wanted to answer. (And I need to do it here since it was an anon one.)**

_**"sooo, another chapter with no interaction at all between Kurt and Blaine... I don't think they will end falling in love with each other since they don't spend barely any time together..."**_

**Okay, I'm sorry, but be patient? Like I know it've been 12 chapters, but they've been really short (It's something I'm working on.) and I can't just put them together because it's Klaine and people want smut or whatever. This is my story, and this is how it needs to be in my head. It would feel too weird to just put them in a relationship with each other practically the moment the met. Both of them have obvious.. issues, and it's gonna take a while for them to let down their walls and stuff. (And this is also not just about the two of the together, but almost as separate individuals, if that makes sense?)  
So if any of you reading aren't into reading fanfiction with a lot of plot and buildup (I guess, even if it sounds almost like I'm bragging..) then just don't read this. Because it will go on for a while and there will be time for Klaine, but it won't happen NOW. So just take a breath and I don't know, decide whether this story is for you or not?  
If you think they won't end up falling in love, fine. I can understand where you're coming from, but at the same time just.. as I said, breathe.  
I decided to write this story with a lot of development before the boys get together, just since I feel like it's something that's quite rarely seen. They exist but there are a lot in which it almost feels like the writer's pushing it just because they want Kurt and Blaine together almost instantly. I decided to do it the way so that you'll get to follow them first to just learn and tolerate each other, become friends and then eventually boyfriends. ****_It will happen but not right now._****  
I'm sorry I'm not sorry that you feel that way, really. Feel free to stick to this story if you want, but if you're impatient or simply don't like it, don't. 'Cause yeah. But thank you for your review, I appreciate to hear from the people reading. :) (And I really mean that.) **

**..Anyways. I hope I didn't seem to rude there? 'Cause I didn't mean to. But yeah, now you guys are caught up with S&C so it'll be a while between each chapter, sorry. ;)**

* * *

"Where are we?" Blaine asked, crawling out of the vehicle's trunk, which was a lot more comfortable than he'd thought it would be.

They'd been driving for about an hour, and were now in a pretty normal-sized parking lot, belonging to what seemed like a public bathhouse.

"Or more, why are we here?" he added before any of the girls could answer. "It looks pretty closed to me."

"It is." Santana confirmed, flinging a bag over her left shoulder.

"Then why're we here?"

"If you just take a chill-pill, hobbit, it'll all work out fine."

"What is _with_ the Lord of the Rings obsession around here?" he muttered quietly to himself, following as the dark-skinned girl took the lead.

Watching as she took a key out of her jacket pocket, Blaine got a little confused.

"My last foster family owns this place. Snatched a key just before I left." she informed, unlocking what seemed to be the backdoor. And after fighting with the lock for a second, the door slid open, reviling a pretty damn big pool. The water lay still and of some reasons the spotlights were turned on, even though the sun was shining in the sky above.

"And we're finally back." the tallest of them sighed, walking through the door and over to the bleachers placed around the water.

Before he knew it, the usually very laidback females where practically running around throwing their clothes everywhere. The blond one was jumping around and with a little shout she jumped and landed with a splash in the unnatural blue water, making one of the others jell at her angrily. The fact that she was butt-naked didn't disturb Blaine as much as it 'usually' would of some reason, but the fact that the girl's girlfriend was behind her in the water just seconds later, _also _naked, and beginning to practically fuck her in the pool, _that_, on the other hand, he did find mildly… not very nice. It wasn't that he couldn't stand the sight of lesbians, like he knew some gay guys couldn't, it was more that he didn't really feel like watching them having sex. That the others barely acknowledged it at all was a little amusing and before he could stop himself, he'd asked the tall one, Mackenzie, if he'd heard it right, why that was.

"We're used to it." she grunted in respond as she peeled off her ripped jeans.

"You're 'used to it'?"

"Yeah. All of us hanging around them have walked in on them, or have seen it happening in front of us before we know it."

"Right…"

"Like, we all know what both of them looks like when they come, and that's not really anything we've chosen to."

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows slightly.

_That's really something I'll do good without knowing._

The day started out quite soft, actually. He himself stayed out of the pool, it being cold both in the water and the air. Somehow he managed to small-talk with all of the girls, and to his surprise, to say the least, Blaine found himself quite enjoying their company.

After about an hour, Brittany decided it was time to come out of the pool, goosebumps covering her pale body, and with a little giggle she plopped down just beside Blaine, seemingly having no troubles with the fact that she was naked, not only in front of him, but also in early winter.

"Ehm, shouldn't you put some clothes on?" he asked, feeling a little uncomfortable with the way she stared at him.

"So," she said, sitting up a little straighter, looking at him like she hadn't heard a word he'd said. "Do you know Legolas personally?"

"W –what?" Blaine looked at the rest of the gang in helpless confusion, only to feel even more helpless when all they did was laugh at him.

"Legolas. Or maybe Gimli?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you from the Shire? Did you know Bilbo or Frodo?"

_Is she _serious_ right now?_

"Oh!" her baby-blue eyes got bigger in excitement. "Or _Gandalf?" _

'Is she serious?' he mouthed to the laughing teenagers sitting just behind him, getting nods in responds.

_Wow…_

"His fireworks are the coolest thing ever! Were you there on Bilbo's one-hundred and eleventhis birthday?"

"I was." Blaine decided, having to grin a little at the blonde's reaction.

"You _were? _Wow. Do you know why he just disappeared like that?"

"No, I can't say I do." the curly haired boy said thoughtfully, hiding a smile.

The conversation went on for quite a while, Blaine never stopping to wonder if she was actually serious, and how she could be if that was the case, before Santana, now dressed again to his approvement, grabbed one of her girlfriend's wrists and told her that that was enough.

"Don't worry, I don't mind." Blaine said with a little smirk. "It's pretty amusing."

The look Santana gave him surprised him to say the least.

"Stay away from her, okay. Just because she's different doesn't mean she's automatically a source of amusement to you."

"Take it easy Santana, he was just –"

"Mind your own business, Sheila." muttered the Latino and Sheila shut her mouth.

_Now I know all their names at least. Took long enough. _

"So," Santana said, suddenly sitting beside him like nothing happened.

"So?" he asked, keeping his gaze far off in the distance.

"Who are you?"

"Huh?"

"Who are you?" she repeated. "Like, where do you come from, which school did you go to before, do you have any siblings and so on. 'Cause after all, we don't really know anything about you, Frodo. I mean, you could be a serial killer."

A little taken aback by the question, and by the fact that all of the teenage girls were now looking at him like he had a horn sticking out of his forehead, he searched his brain for what to tell them. It had been quite a while since he'd talked with someone about himself, and it wasn't really anything he enjoyed.

Without him really controlling his hands, they moved to inside his jean-pocket, grabbing the pack of cigarettes. He took out one and lit it, still not really thinking, before he felt the practically begging eyes on him, and he ended up 'sharing' with everyone there, except Brittany, who'd apparently just try to eat it if she got her hands on one.

_Seriously, is that girl for real?_ He thought, doubting it. A lot. There weren't people like that. Not in the real world.

"'Who am I?'…Right." Blaine muttered when Santana kicked him softly in his side. It was pretty weird that he sat furthest down of them all, so he had his back turned to the once he was supposed to talk to. Not that he was complaining, it was actually more comfortable like this.

"There really isn't much to it." he muttered after yet another while of thinking.

"Bullshit. Everyone has a story."

"Yeah, but 'everyone' doesn't feel like sharing it with teenage females they barely know." Blaine smiled sweetly, even though he knew they couldn't see his face. It was a reflex, sort of.  
"Oh come oon." one of them grunted. "We'll tell you something about ourselves or whatever, and you tell us something too, cool?"

"…Guess so."

This was so weird. Why where they so interested anyways? Weren't they supposed to be the 'cool alternative kids'? The once who only talked to 'their own'? And he certainly wasn't a part of 'them', whoever they were. Some might think so, by the way he acted toward just about everyone at the school and by the clothes he wore or whatever the hell they thought. But he really wasn't. He'd much rather just be left alone. That way he wouldn't get hurt by the truth, the truth that everyone was just as rotten as himself.

Before he knew it, though, everyone there was sharing small pieces of themselves, of their 'history' or whatever you wanted to call it.

"I'm Sheila. I've lived with five different families. Hated them all."

"I'm Ronnie. I just don't like people. But I like to ask questions, kinda curious about stuff, but don't ever really listen to the answers. They bore me. But I can't stop asking the questions… Do you know why?"

"I'm Mackenzie. Or 'The Mack' as some call me. I never date guys my own age. They have to be at least twenty-eight or it doesn't work for me at all. And they say I have a… _problem _with my temper."

"You know I'm Santana. And I'm the dyke ruining the Lopez family's spotless image."

"I'm… Brittany. I have a cat named Lord Tubbington and I think he's having an affair with the neighbors' dog…"

Looking at Brittany with a mask of a weird mix of confusion and amusement, Blaine cleared his throat.

"Well, guess I'll have to tell you guys _something _now, don' I?"

"Of. Course." Santana said in a way only she could.

"Okay, this feels really stupid but whatever. I'm Blaine and… fuck this."

_What the fuck is this? Kindergarten?_

"Don't be a dick. Tell us _something."_

"Will you be pleased if I say I _like_ dick?" he tried with a half smirk.

"Nope."

"You guys are a fucking pain." the boy groaned.

_What the hell am I supposed to tell them?_

"I have to act like a housemaid at home, taking care of my wreck of a mother 'cause my lovely father decided she wasn't good enough for him."

Wow. Where did that come from all of a sudden? Way too much information…

"That's better."

"And what about Quinn and Kurt? I assume you're gonna tell them what I told you, so you gonna tell me anything 'bout them?"

A couple of seconds passed and just when he was about to repeat the question, thinking they might not have heard it, Santana spoke again. She kind of seemed like their… spokesperson of sorts, which seemed a little ironic to Blaine.

"We honestly don't know much about them. They're sort of like those mysterious twins that moves into the haunted house in town together with their weird parents and no one dares to speak to them 'cause they're just too… weird. Or you know, not exactly like that but sort of..." she tried to explain.

"But they live together and from what I know they've done that since they were about fifteen or so, just around Kurt's… 'transformation', I guess you could call it."

"Transformation?"

"'Before' Quinn, Kurt was… gay. Like, _really _gay. If you catch my meaning?"

"I –guess…" Blaine muttered, trying to picture Kurt in fabulous shirts and glittering scarves, failing pretty hard.

"Sorry for being nosy but, what the heck happened? I mean if he transformed like that?"

"For how long have you lived here? Do you know about –?"

"Ronnie. Shut up. Time for you to back off now, Frodo. Don't want Kurt getting all fired up 'cause I told you one thing too many."

"No, course not."

_Why did I even care in the first place?_

"Kurt, get your ass out of bed, we're going out."

"Out?" the boy asked sleepily, trying to force his heavy eyelids to open. "Where-when-how-what-why?"

"We're not."

"We're –not? Now you're confusing me…" he yawned tiredly, lifting up his upper body with his bony elbows.

"It's the only thing you've reacted to out of everything I've tried with the last half hour or so."

"Then why not let me sleep if I'm such a bother?"

"It's half past four in the afternoon you little dumbass, so I got tired of listening to your snores."

"Half past four? Are you fucking kidding me?" Kurt groaned, working up the energy to get up.

"Nope. But you came to bed kinda late yesterday. Or, this morning."

"Right. But still." _Fucking half past four._

Eventually, Kurt managed to drag himself to the bathroom, closing the door tightly behind him. Exactly what he was doing there he didn't know, but it was the only place in their little home where you could close a door around you. Not that the so called bathroom was even anywhere near nice, but still. After sitting on the greasy floor and just breathing for half of eternity, Kurt got up and placed himself in front of the mirror. He groaned at the sight of the zombie that was now in front of him, only to groan again when he remembered that that was just him.

It was moments like these Kurt really wished they owned aspirin. Anything to help the hideous headache go away, really. He found himself almost a little amazed by how his hate and total lack of tolerance towards hangovers never really calmed down. You may think he should be used to it by now, after all. But no, he wasn't. He still hated them as much as he did when he'd first started drinking, way, way back, like two thousand years ago. He still regretted getting drunk every morning after and he _still_ almost seriously considered the option of never touching alcohol ever again. Though, this thought was usually washed away pretty quickly, or swallowed down later that same day if things were just really shit that particular day, and of course, it was swallowed down with some kind of alcohol that some random guy bought him at Scandals. And then the circle repeated itself. Over and over and over again.

Kurt put his hands under the cold water, letting it pour over them for a second before cupping both his hands to be able to fill them with the clean water. Only, a familiar sort of pain stopped him. The pain of running water in razor cuts. Looking down, he sighed heavily when he saw the new cuts carved into his already scarred left wrist.

The weird part was that he didn't really remember 'creating' them. Now when he knew it had happened, he knew that it was a memory he had in his head of him cutting through his skin, not a dream. But before somehow being able to not have noticed the fact that he'd still pretty open cuts on his wrist before he felt the water in them, he'd wondered mildly whether the pictures he had in his head had been a dream or reality. The more he tried to make sense of it or the more he tried to explain it to himself, the more confused he got. But if he was going to try and put it simply, he wasn't completely sure if he'd actually cut himself, or if it had just been another dream. That was up until he saw his wrist of course, but still, having the proof, it still felt pretty weird. Like if…

Kurt shook his head. Stop. He was only confusing himself by trying to make sense of it all.

"Quinn…" She looked up. "You think we could get Santana or Ronnie or whoever to buy food for us today? 'Cause I'm pretty damn hungry…" he mumbled.

"They're at Sheila's pool."

"Oh, right. Fuck."

He'd totally forgotten about that. It was kind of a… tradition of sorts for the gang to drive there every first of November and spend the day there, no matter the weather. Where it came from he didn't know, but it almost felt a little weird now when he knew he'd missed it.

"I can't –believe you actually did that." Blaine gasped once he'd reached the surface, looking over at a laughing Santana.

"Oh come on Anderson, don't be a pussy, you were the only one left."

"You're gonna pay for this…" he threatened with an evil smirk, swimming to the sideof the pool, trying to climb up.

"Nope." the Latino smirked herself, pushing him back into the water once he was halfway up. But she'd stepped a little too close and Blaine was as quick as always and succeeded in grabbing her ankle and pulling her down in the pool just behind him.

"You _fucker!"_ she shrieked, splashing the cold water in his face. But it was okay, because he was already soaked in it.

"My fuckin' clothes!"

"Oh don't be a pussy, Lopez." he grinned, wiping his wet curls out of his hazel eyes.

"You'll have to make me soup if I get sick now, you know. It's fucking freezing." she groaned when she'd managed to get out of the cold pool.

"Hey come on, we're in the same boat, don't be so grumpy." Blaine chuckled, gesturing at his own soaked being.

"Now what're we gonna do?" he asked after a moment. "We can't just sit here and wait for our clothes to self-dry, it's way too cold for that."

"Y-you're right-t." Santana stuttered, clearly close to freezing her ass off.

"You'll just have to get naked." Mackenzie stated with a smug smile.

And that's just what happened, sort of. About a minute later and they sat on the bleachers in their underwear. And that may not sound too horrible, if you count out the fact that it was November and not really sunny anymore, that was.

"Your lips are like blueberry-blue." Sheila said and Santana shot her a poisonous look, but kept quiet since her jaws clatteredso hysterically from being cold.

"Would you stop looking at me like that? It's kinda really fucking disturbing." Blaine groaned when he'd had enough of Ronnie staring at him.

"But you're so _sexy." _she mumbled, still staring at him with hungry eyes, which he didn't really appreciate.

"And I'm so not straight, so forget whatever fantasies running through your head right now."

"Ronnie, seriously–" Santana started, but went quiet once her eyes landed on Blaine's just about completely naked body. Her mouth moved as to say 'wow' but no sound came out.

"Really, Santana? You too?" he groaned.

"'M sorry Blainers, but you've got one hella nice body right there…" she told him almost a little… dreamingly.

Wow, well, this was uncomfortable. He knew he had a… good body, and he knew what a lot of people thought of it. And being stared at with bedroom eyes by drunk, or sober, guys at Scandals or wherever didn't really bother him, but this was sort of… not comfortable. Because these were girls, staring at him whilst he was just sitting there, almost completely naked, and he didn't really like that. The fact that Santana stared at him too, who were obviously just about as gay as you could get, both pleased his ego more than anything and made him want to slap her over her face and tell her to do… whatever, anything but stare at him like she was ready to have her way with him.

"San, you're a dyke, remember?" Mackenzie mocked jokingly, seemingly completely 'unaffected' by Blaine's… sexiness. Apparently she'd been serious when she said that a guy needed to be at least over twenty-eight for her to care.

"Yeahhh…" she mumbled with a smile on her face that almost made her look a little high.

"Yeah." she said again, sitting back up straight again and shaking her head like she'd just woken up from a trans.

"Come on, I think our clothes are dry enough to put back on now." he grumbled, standing up and walking aver to them. His jeans were still pretty damn damp, but it didn't matter. He was cold as fuck and actually really wanted to go home and sleep. Oh the joy of being a teenage boy.

"Santana, do you think Blaine is hotter than me?" he heard Brittany ask her girlfriend as he yawningly put his clothes back on.

"Of course not, Britt." came an instant reply. "You're the hottest person I've ever seen."

"Good." He could hear the smile in the girl's voice. "You're the hottest person I've ever seen, too."

"That's good to hear." Santana said with a little giggle. And even tough Blaine hadn't really known the girl for long, the sound still sounded pretty weird coming from her.

"I love you, Santana." Brittany cooed.

"Love you too." Sound of kissing followed and Blaine had to stop the emergeto roll his eyes.

"You'll get used to it." Sheila told him, suddenly appearing by his side. "We've all learned to block it out, all the cheesy romantic shit goin' on between the two of them all the time. You'll learn to too, soon enough."

"…Right." he muttered, making a grimace when he felt just how damp his jeans still were. They sure felt a lot wetter now than they had when he'd just had them in his hands. Just another weird unexplainable thing it this world.

Then Sheila's words sort of sunk in, 'you'll get used to it soon enough.' Soon enough? That sounded like she thought he was going to keep on spending time with them.

He thought about this involuntarilyas they walked back to the car a while later.

He had really had a good time today. The girls were much nicer than he'd thought, if he was being honest with himself. Funnier, sort of. They weren't all tough and macho douchebags as they gave themselves up to be in school, and maybe he should have known that that was the case. But it had still surprised him when he heard them laugh today, for example.

They were pretty nice girls, he actually kind of liked being around them. Not when they were staring at him like he was some kind of sex-god, that was. But otherwise things were… pretty good with them.

So maybe he should keep hanging with them? Just to see if they could actually become friends in the long run? Maybe he should just try and put what had happened behind him and realize that everyone weren't like his old 'friends'?

Maybe? Hm.

* * *

**(Yes, another chapter with no interactions between the two. But it was necessary.)  
Thank you all so much for following and everything, really means a lot. x**


	14. Chapter 14

**Do not own anything but the idea. (Man I keep forgetting..)**

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"Hey Anderson, don't be shy, come sit with us." Santana said with a grin when she saw the boy shuffling towards his usual seat in the cafeteria.

"Hold the fuck up, what the fuck Lopez?" Kurt hissed when he saw the hobbit changing direction and heading towards their table instead. He got an innocent shrug and a little smile in response and when Blaine took a seat next to the girl he felt like his head would explode. _What was this? _

"What's goin' on Santana?" he asked her dryly.

"I just thought he could sit with us. I mean he's always so alone." she answered, that damn smile still on her lips.

"Oh that's so kind of you, San. Thank you."

_San? He calls her San already? _

"What the fuck's goin on?" he asked when he wasn't able to keep it in any longer.

"Oh, hey, do you know each other?" Santana asked like she hadn't heard a word just spoken to her. "Kurt, this is Blaine. Blaine, this is Kurt." she informed, pretending like the two of them were complete strangers. Blaine seemed to enjoy the little 'game' and offered a hand for Kurt to shake. He ignored it.

"Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today." the hobbit said.

"Not really, he's always like that." Santana whispered in the boy's ear.

"Anyways," she carried on. "I thought it'd be nice for the two of you to get to know each other. I mean you _are _a lot like."

"Don't say that ever again, please." Kurt said sweetly, yet poisonous.

"How did the two of you… get to know each other so well, then?" the cyan eyed boy asked after a while, trying his best not to flip the table. It was just something about the situation that made him incredibly frustrated.

"We sort of spend the weekend together."

"Hold the fuck up." he said again with a little laugh. "You did what again?"

"Don't worry Hummel, I'm still a dyke and Blaine's still a fag."

"But what the fuck Santana?"

_"__What?"_

"Why. Did. You–?"

"You know I'm right here, Kurtie, no need to act like I'm not."

Kurt turned his head slightly and glared at the hobbit-like boy sitting in the seat across the table. He gave him a bitch look and then turned his attention back to the girl sitting beside him. _She sat beside him like they'd known each other for forever._

"What the hell did I miss?" he asked again, gesturing at the two of them.

"Nothing?"

"Okay so one day you act like he doesn't exist and the next you just _happen _to spend the weekend with him? And now all of a sudden you're best friends?" Wow, that sounded way more jealous than he'd meant for it to.

"_I _didn't act like he didn't exist, Kurt, _you _did, and Quinn too sort of. The two of you've hated on him ever since he showed up here. Show the poor boy some compassion." Santana said with a hand on her chest, pretending like she actually really cared, and he saw Blaine trying not to smile.

"And come one, what's there to hate, really?" she added and Kurt's chin fell down to the floor.

"Coma again?"

"Come on, he's pretty attractive it you look at him properly."

"Are you fucking serious?" he asked. Santana was probably the gayest girl he'd ever met; in fact he'd never heard her say a male was attractive before. And that she chose to say that about _Anderson _of all people just… it kind of pissed him off.

"You know she's right." Blaine said with a half grin that made his blood boil.

"Oh yeah, as long as the thoughts of hobbits, curly hair and triangle eyebrows turns you on. But sorry, it really doesn't do anything for me."

With a deep chuckle, Blaine grabbed the apple lying on his lunch tray and looked at Kurt through his ridiculously thick eyelashes as he took a bite, making an act of it all. Something inside Kurt didn't really know what to feel in that moment. Should he be irritated? Angry? Uncomfortable, maybe? Should he be turned on? Was that what Blaine tried to do? Turning him on? 'Cause that came out of nowhere and was almost laughable.

_Though he–no what the fuck Kurt shut up._

After forcing the thought he'd been close to thinking as far back in his head as possible, he shook his head with a little snort and turned back to the food on his own tray. Though he wasn't even the least bit hungry at the moment. He hadn't eaten at all now for two days so his stomach had gotten used to being empty. But he knew that he had to eat something or things wouldn't end up well, he'd been there countless times before and it wasn't really pleasant. So he forced his body to chew and swallow the food he put in his mouth. It was hard, because as usual the school cafeteria's food tasted like shit. In fact he was pretty sure they got better tasting food in prison.

But he knew he shouldn't be complaining, he knew that if it wasn't for the school he'd never get a proper lunch except from the few occasions when any of the Skank girls bought them pizza or some other kind of fast food on the weekends.

So whatever if the pancakes were more gray than yellow. Whatever if the lasagna looked, and probably tasted, like someone had just thrown up their own shit. Whatever if the potatoes where still raw inside. It was food and he needed it to survive.

"The food's not goin' anywhere, why the rush?" Kurt snapped his head up when he heard that voice talking to him again.

"'at do 'o wan' Ane'son?" he said, mouth stuffed with the disgusting tasting food.

"'m 'orry, 'in't ca'ch 'at." Blaine mimicked and Kurt shot him yet another bitch look and forced the food down his uncomfortably dry throat.

"What do you want?"  
"Nothing? Just giving you some friendly advice." the Hobbit smiled.

Kurt said nothing; he just turned back to his tray, to his relief finding it empty. He'd finally managed to eat it all, then.

"Let's get out of here then?" He, once again, snapped his head around when he heard another voice talking, this time saying his words at the exact time as he himself.

"Hey. You mind?"

"What?" the shorter chuckled.

"Forget it." he muttered, turning around and walked out if the school, heading towards the bleachers.

* * *

"You got fire?" Blaine asked, sitting down beside Kurt, who ignored him. The other boy had been ignoring him pretty much all day, except when he had no choice than to acknowledge him. It was pretty amusing, actually, Blaine thought. It made it really fun to tease him, just because he saw how much the other detested him. It bugged him a tiny bit as well, since he hadn't managed to get any reason to why that was, but he managed to ignore that and just enjoy being a pain in the ass.

"Hummeel?" he sung.

"No I don't." the boy muttered, refusing to look at him.

"Come on, don't be like that, Kurtie, share."

"I honestly don't have any. So go away."

"Why not?"

"I don't smoke?" Kurt said, effectively making Blaine's hazel eyes widen.

"You –don't?" That was weird. He'd just taken it for granted that he smoked. It just seemed like something he… did.

"No I –don't." Kurt said, he being the one mimicking the other this time.

"Why?" he had to ask.

"Exactly, why?"

Blaine nodded. He had a point, he guessed. But he was still one of those under the nicotine's hard-to-break spell, and he craved a refill now.  
"Santana?" he asked, looking around. He shook his head quietly when she found that both she and Brittany were missing.

"Ronnie." he said instead, turning to the girl sitting biting her fingernails, just as usual. "You got fire, right?"

"I do…" she said, sighing, and it took him a moment to remember why she was giving him those eyes. It seemed like she was crushing on him. Yippey.

"Good."

He thanked her and tossed the lighter back to her, before turning back to Kurt again.

"You know, you really shouldn't behave the way you do towards me, it makes my eyes sad." the boy said with a little half smirk.

"Oh go fuck yourself." the other boy grumbled and stood up to walk out of there.

"But come on, Hummel, we could be _bros!" _Blaine said, following him. And he hoped that Kurt understood that he wasn't serious.

"Are you serious?" Okay so maybe he hadn't?

"Of course." he grinned. "No I'm not. But really, I don't see anything I've done that would give you the reason to act the way you do."

"What way?"

"Hm?"

"What way do I act that bothers you so much?"

"You know, the whole 'fuck you' thing. Now I know I act like that too to a lot of people, to you too sometimes, but your 'fuck you' is a thousand times stronger than mine. It's like you actually hate me. Did Quinn tell you something or what?" He hadn't meant for that last sentence to actually be said.

"You know what she hasn't, but since you brought it up maybe you could fill me in?" said Kurt, hiding his curiousness.

"Let's just say I'm not proud of it. I was a totally different person and –" Blaine had to stop and chuckle at the other teenager's face. "No but don't worry about it. I just called the cops on them. She and a couple of friends."

"You did what again?"

"Oh Kurtie, she was doing _bad stuff. _You know, like…" he lowered his voice. _"Illegal_ stuff."

Kurt wasn't really sure how to react. The boy that was now following him through the school and the one that basically just wanted to be left alone was not the same person. This one was more… he couldn't be sure. The teasing was still there, but it was different now, like he was actually _enjoying _it. Like he _enjoyed _pissing him off. And that, of course, only made the whole thing worse.  
"Why're you doin' this?" he asked dryly when he'd had enough.

"Doin' what?"

"You know I don't like you, you know I get pissed easily, you know it can get _ugly _when I'm angry." His mind went back to the boy's locker room and to the fight he and Azimio had had a while ago. If you looked at the odds, Kurt had been fucked, but he'd always been the boy full of surprises. The whole thing had ended with a whimperingjock, a couple smashed lockers and Kurt being forced to the principal's office. Blaine had been percent during the whole thing. And he'd been pretty impressed by the performance to be honest.

"So why push it?"

"I dunno. Feel like it I guess." Blaine said nonchalantly.

"Then _stop _feeling like it. Or I might just end up wrecking your little bike that you're so fond of."

The shorter of the two chuckled yet again.

"Don't tell me it was my fault the first time?"

"Nah, just felt like it then." Kurt smiled.

"You see that's your damn problem." Blaine said. "You know how much it cost me to repair the damage you did to my bike?"

"Nope, and don't care even a little bit either."

"Well it was a fucking lot. And you would do it again anytime am I right?" Kurt dipped his head to nod once. "Exactly. I know I'm no angel, but I don't do things like _that."_

"Then what do you do?"

"I just fuck around with people for fun."

"And that was _exactly _what I did when I smashed the tires on your bike. It was for fun."

"I do stuff that _won't_ cost them a fortune."

"Right. But wasting the oh-so-precious time of all those innocent brain-dead girls; that you don't have a problem with?"

"It's not my fault I'm the hottest guy around here. I wasn't involved when whoever or whatever chose my looks."

"No but you're involved with the flirty smiles and eye-fucking you do to pretty much anyone who's close by."

"I am. And it's for fun. You make people give you their money or make them spend it on things they wouldn't actually have to. I give people something to look at."

_Wow, _Blaine was bitchy and self-confident in that moment. And it felt awesome.

"I mean, you should try it some time. It can be pretty fun."

"What, play prince charming? Nuh-uh. Won't happen."

"Why not? I think you could pull it off if you tried. I mean you have your looks, they would work in your favor." What the fuck.

"Oh is that so?" Kurt said with a smug smile. "And why's that."

"You _are _pretty damn sexy. At times at least." he admitted, it wouldn't hurt anyone anyways.

"I know." the cyan eyed male nodded. "Wish I could say the same but then I'd be lying."

Blaine gave a little laughter. "Right. You know damn well you think I'm attractive."

Kurt looked him from head to toe. "Nope, can't really say I do." he lied.

'Cause no chance he'd actually admit that he did. Maybe it was childish, but whatever. Because now more than ever he hated the guy. And he knew that now they'd have to spend time together just because the lovely Santana had decided to befriend him. Fucking dyke. He knew she only did it to fuck with him, too.

"Where's Santana anyways? Haven't seen her since after we arrived at the bleachers?" he muttered once the urge to rip Blaine's head off became a little too strong.

"Guess she's off somewhere screwing her girlfriend as usual?"

_As usual? It's too soon for him to say that._

Kurt wanted few things more in that moment than to just beat the kid black and blue, but that wouldn't give him anything else than momentary pleasure. He knew that with Blaine it wasn't the same as roughing up the jocks or whoever else who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time a little. He'd learned that if he hit that boy, he wouldn't be satisfied until he'd managed to return the favor. And that hobbit _did _have a good punch.

"What happened that made Santana love you?" he had to ask, but refused to look at the person he was talking to.

"Are you jealous?" Blaine sang.

"Why the fuck would I? I'm just wondering."

"Well," he took a last drag on his cigarette before throwing it to the ground. "I don't know. Kinda helped her out after she got stranded over at Puck's place after the party, which was your fault I heard."

"Well, I got bored." Kurt muttered.

"And then she asked me if I wanted to come with them to that pool. But I didn't really know where we were goin at the time, but yeah."

"You were at Sheila's pool?" He sounded more disturbed by that than he'd meant to.

"If that's what you call it, yeah. And then I stayed at her place for the rest of the weekend 'cause she wouldn't drive me home."

"Don't bullshit me, if you really wanted to go home you would."

"Okay, yeah, I didn't really mind staying. She's a fucking fun girl to hang out with. And Brittany too once you look beyond her total lack of IQ."

"A fun girl to hang with?" the pink haired boy said, an amused expression on his face. "Wow you've hung out with a lot of boring people."

"I really have, yeah. My social life has always been crowded with snobs and incredibly boring people." Blaine let out a little laughter, and to both their surprise, so did Kurt. Of course he stopped the sound for coming from his lips as soon as he realized it.

"Then come with me to scandals tonight?" Kurt said after a while.

_What the actual fuck Kurt? Are you out of your fucking mind? What the actual fuck are you doing? Have you lost your mind completely? What the fuck? _He screamed in his mind to himself.

"Yeah," the hobbit said. "Sure, why not. Planned on goin' there anyways."

_Well fuck you Kurt now you've screwed everything up for yourself. What were you thinking asking him in the first place you fucking nutcase? _And so he was arguing with his mind again. He wasn't sure about much at the time, but one thing he knew.

He'd just asked a guy he couldn't really stand at all to come with him to the town's gay bar that same night.

Wow, had that really happened? Seems like it.

Well, he was fucked in every way possible now.

* * *

"Mom?" Blaine asked. "What're you–?" His voice faded out. When had se come home? And more importantly _why hadn't he been here when she did? _

"Oh hi _Blaine."_ Well there was one of his mother's less likeable sides. "Where have you been?"

"I –school." he said, walking over to sit down in one of the armchairs, facing the woman sitting curled up in her favorite blanket on the couch.

The blanked his father had given her on their ten year anniversary, five years before it all went to hell. Five years before he'd broken her heart and ruined both hers and Blaine's life maybe forever. That was six years ago now. It had been six years since his father had gotten caught cheating by his own wife. She'd come home from work walking in on him and a young woman she'd never seen before. The greeting she got was 'you're home early'. No 'it's not what it looks like' or 'I can explain'. There was none of that because what was happing was way too obvious. Things couldn't have been more obvious, actually.

Husband and wife had had a big fight, heard by the whole street even though they'd been inside. The man had eventually left with the unknown woman, only to run into his son coming home from school, a big smile on his young face. It was his twelfth birthday and the little boy was very excited. He'd been told that his beloved parents had planned a big birthday party and there was nothing the boy loved more than birthday parties.

But, needless to say, there never was a birthday party that day.

"Yesterday too?" asked Marcie, her smile and voice too sweet to be real.

"…No." he mumbled.

_Shit. Don't tell me. Don't tell me…_

"Where were you yesterday, Blaine?" his mother's tone was so kind it was poisonous.

"I was… with some friends."

"Oh, friends." the woman nodded her small head. "You've got friends Blaine? How lovely."

"Why didn't they call me to tell that you were coming home?" he asked, his voice merely a whisper.

"Oh but they _did_, Blaine." The use of his name in just about every sentence proved just how upset she was.

"They _did. _But you didn't _answer. _Not your cell, not our home phone. You didn't _answer. _No, because you were out with some _friends." _Blaine felt himself shrink in the armchair for every word coming out of Marcie's.

"I'm sorry…" he managed. And he really was. He was so sorry, so ashamed that he'd forgotten. No good son did that and he was so sorry that he had. But he knew that that didn't matter to his mother in that moment.

"I –" he began, but got interrupted.

"You're _sorry. _Right." the woman let out a little laughter. "You _forgot _about me Blaine!"

"N –no I didn't I just –"

"You forgot! I was in the _hospital_ and you went out with _friends. _I mean you weren't even here when I got put in!"

"You –remember being taken to the hospital?" Blaine asked, a little surprised.

"No I–" her face fell a little. "They told me Mrs. Smythe had come over to check on me and…" she looked down at her hands that lay clasped together in her lap.

"Why weren't you here Blaine? Why was it Leila who… and not you?"

"I was at school, mom." he told her.

"Oh… right. I remember that." she lied.

"Mom, I'm really sorry I wasn't home when they called… I promise it won't happen again." the boy said quietly, walking over to sit down next to his mother. He put an arm around her shoulders and let her rest her head on his shoulder. She was tinier that him in all ways possible and the fact that he had to act the way he did with her was heartbreaking. A son shouldn't have to take care of his mother the way Blaine had to take care of his. Not when he was eighteen and she thirty-nine.

When he heard her sniffle quietly his heart became heavy. He hated that she cried as often as she did, he hated it. It wasn't fair for any of them.

"Should I make you something to eat?" he asked Marcie about half an hour later.

"Yeah, that'd be great sweetie." his mother answered and tried to smile at him. But she was exhausted, so it didn't go well. However Blaine was used to that, so he saw that she'd tried and gave her a genuine smile before walking to the kitchen.

* * *

"Like what the fuck is wrong with me?"

"Well how much time do you have?"

"Oh ha-ha." Kurt muttered and Quinn beamed at him. "I'm serious, how could I do that?"

"I dunno. I mean, why did I sleep with Puck? Why did I do just about everything I've done in life so far?"

"No but like how did the thought even enter my brain in the first place and how did I actually let myself _say_ it?"

"Okay Kurt first of all, you need to sit the fuck down, you're stressing me out."

"What I'm just standing here."

"Exactly. Sit down." Quinn ordered and Kurt did as he was told. "Thank you."

"What's the 'second of all'?"

"Huh?"  
"You said 'first of all', so there gotta be a 'second of all'. And if there isn't I'll be very angry with you 'cause things like that bug the shit out of me."

"Second of all," she said, smiling a little at Kurt's input. "Where're your balls all of a sudden?"

"I'm sorry?" he muttered, raising his eyebrows.

"Why're you so damn… I don't know… weird? Why're you so weird about Anderson?"

"I'm not weird about him." Quinn laughed at him. "Okay, I'm a little weird with him I guess."

"A bit more than a little. But I get that you don't like him, I do, he's pretty annoying." Kurt nodded with a little mutter that sounded a lot like 'tell me about it'.

"But like, _that _behavior just because of some snarky comments –okay a lot of snarky comments –and flirty looks? Things like that wouldn't normally upset you this much. So just go buy back your balls from whoever you sold them to so you can go back to your normal I-don't-give-a-fuck-self."

"His name's Blaine." Kurt mumbled after a second of silence.

"I know…?"

"No I mean… His name's Blaine."

"I'm sorry but I don't–"

"You might not remember this, but a while ago I told you about my brother."

"Of course I remember that?"

"Well, his name was Blaine. Ilovedhimmorethananythingand ," Kurt cleared his throat. "and… he's not here anymore… andImisshim." Wow, this was embarrassing. "And hearing his name again all the time… sort of makes me… thinkofhimalotandithurts."

Quinn smiled at him. Fuck. She smiled at him. She thought he was pathetic.

"Look I know I'm pathetic but…"  
"No it's not that it's just…" she smiled again. "You seem so human and it's really cute."

"Shut up." he groaned, refusing to smile.

"No but really though, if we're gonna talk some serious talk for a moment." she put down her book. "I don't wanna say something that'll cause you to kill me but, this Blaine and your brother is two different people. I get that you miss him, I really do, but just because the two share names doesn't mean he should… I don't know, suffer because you miss your brother, I guess."

"It's not like that." Kurt groaned. "It's just that… I don't know, he's obnoxious. And he's named Blaine and he sort of has my mother's eyes." That last thing wasn't supposed to be said out loud. He really had lost the control of what to say and not.

"Okay just to clarify; I'm really the wrong person to tell you that he's actually likable since I can't stand the guy, but I can tell you to not give a fuck about what I think about him and just give him a change. Santana said you were a lot alike." she winked.

"Oh shut your mouth you know the whole thing about embracing that hobbit in our little gang was to fuck with me. She knows I don't like him."

"I know, but still."

"I guess. But I still don't was to go to _Scandals _with him. People are gonna think we're together and I'll –"

"What, lose your title as the town slut?" Quinn mocked jokingly.

"_Exactly. _I mean I just don't think I would be able to handle that. That title is my greatest achievement in life." Kurt said, a hand clasped over his heart like he was actually offended. "No but I wouldn't be able to pick up guys. And that's like the main thing about goin' there on week days."

"I don't think that's such a big problem. I mean just 'cause you're there with another guy doesn't mean you're actually boyfriends. And even if that _could _happen, I bet you could get someone interested in a threesome if you looked for'im."

"Oh you mean with Frodo being a part of it? Not in this lifetime."

Quinn chuckled. "You know he's hot. Don't deny it." she said quickly when Kurt opened his mouth to protest. "I hate to admit it too, but he is."

"…I guess."

"Ha!"

"What?"

"Nothing." she smiled innocently.

"Tell me you asshole." Kurt demanded.

"I maybe kinda made a bet with Mackie that I'd get you to agree that Blaine's attractive."

"Oh you really _are_ and ass, you are _not _telling her."

"Why not?" Quinn laughed evilly.

"'Cause you know she'll tell Santana and then she'll win."

"Win what?"

"Just don't tell her if you're fond of your life." Kurt smiled.

* * *

"Here you are." Blaine smiled, putting a tray with food on the little coffee table in front of the couch.

"Thank you honey." his mother smiled tiredly. He helped her to get into sitting position and tucked a napkin under the hem of her shirt.

"You're so kind to me, always taking care of me. You know I probably wouldn't have made it to this day if it wasn't for you." Blaine felt his throat tightening at her words. Both with sadness, because it really was quite sad, and with… thankfulness, if that even was a feeling. He was so thankful when his mother showed how thankful _she _was. It didn't happen too often. Most of the time he just got that he was in the way and that she could handle the situation herself. Sometimes she acted like he was still a little child, because there were times when she actually thought he was. And it even happened that she would ignore him completely, or just not really seeing him there. What hurt the most were the times when she told him she wished it was he who'd left six years ago and not his father. That really stung bad, even though he knew that she just meant that she still missed her ex-husband. But when she said she wished that he would've left instead… it was hard to swallow even if he tried.

"Listen… mom." he mumbled as he collected the right amount of pills from each jar to give to Marcie. "I was kind of planning on going out tonight…"

"Again?" she asked, though her tone wasn't sharp, just a little sad. And that was harder for him to handle than her being angry with him.

"Yeah ehm… actually it was a guy in school who asked me to come with him to t–"

"Oh?" Marcie's eyes lit up and a smile reached her lips. "A date? Are you going on a date?"

"I –" Oh what the hell. If it would make her happy it didn't really matter. "Yes." he smiled, hoping she wouldn't see that it was fake. But his smile grew real when his mother tucked him into a tight hug.

"I'm so proud." she shrieked.

"Mom. I can't breathe." he croaked.

"When do I get to meet him?" she beamed when she'd finally let go. Blaine almost choked although his mouth was empty.

"I –mom." he laughed awkwardly. "It's only the first date. I don't even know if we'll end up being boyfriends or anything."

"Oh but come on." she smiled at him. "Is he cute?"

"Take your pills mother." Blaine laughed, forcing his mind to stop thinking of whether Kurt was cute or not. It wasn't a date, never would be involving the two of them, and they were certainly _not _going to end up getting together. No chance in hell. But he was happy that his mom was so happy. She really did have the unfortunate gift of shifting mood every few seconds.

He felt so lucky that his mother was and always had been so accepting of who he was, too. In fact she'd sort of been the one telling him she knew. Which had been weird because she'd been so… unstable, and yet she'd somehow noticed that he was gay. But he didn't care exactly how it'd happened, what mattered was that she knew and accepted it.

"I'm gonna go then." Blaine said, giving his mother a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Say hi from me!" she called after him as he went out the door.

"I will" he called back and closed the door. "not." he finished and went to start his motorcycle, which had been returned from repair only the day before.

_Well. Let's see where this'll lead then._ He thought and drove down the street, heading towards yet another night at Scandals and a guy he barely knew. He may not have liked said guy that much at that moment, but he'd decided that he was going to give Kurt a chance.

Because who knows, maybe they could really become friends eventually?

* * *

**So yeah, there will be a lot more Kurt and Blaine stuff from here on. :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Okay, here's what's happening; I'm gonna stop uploading here. Don't hate me or dislike me or anything, I just -I forget to upload here. And that sucks. So if you care to keep reading, you can go here - . ?uid=11526 - Hope that works.. And if it doesn't you'll find me on Scarves and Coffee, under the same name as here. (Ooh that sounded mysterious..) At the time there's like 8 of my other stories uploaded there as well, if you'd care to read any of those. :)**

**I'm doing this so I won't forget to put up chapters here while the guys over at S&C still gets them. Nothing else, hope you understand.**

**Anyways, thank you all so much to the once who've read and reviewed and marked as favorite and followed and I'm over using the word and but you get my meaning. ^^**

**Chao!**

**And feel free to tell me if any of you happen to absolutely hate the thought, and I'll see what I'll do.**


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